


Hello Baby

by justmeandmymuse



Series: Turning Points [3]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Hiddlesworth Fandom, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Bromance to Romance, Daddy!Hiddlesworth, Fluff, Fully Consensual Sex, M/M, Some angst, You Have Been Warned, domestic hiddlesworth, men who talk about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 125,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmeandmymuse/pseuds/justmeandmymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reality catches up with Tom and Chris when Elsa and India come back from Spain. Can their relationship survive the strain when 6-month-old India temporarily moves in with them and Chris starts counseling with Elsa?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for einarsdatter, filislair and anii-chan who asked for a Daddy!Hiddlesworth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa brings by India to be babysat by Tom. Tom has a friend over to visit.

Tom arrived home at 3pm. Packed with bags, clothed in a suit and a warm coat, he dropped everything by the door, kicked off his shoes, hung up the coat and hurried into the kitchen to put on the kettle. He put away his shopping while the water heated, then started some tea and shed his clothes for a quick shower. By the time he was back in the kitchen – he'd timed his shower 8 minutes exactly – the tea was ready.

Tom congratulated himself on his impeccable timing, added some milk to his cup and allowed himself to drop on the recliner, groaning loudly with relief. It was 3:20pm. Ten minutes to enjoy the silence.

He'd planned it all differently, had wanted to be home much earlier for the last touches, to make sure everything was absolutely perfect, but talks with Luke, with the BIFA committee, and last not least, the appointment with his tailor to pick up tomorrow's suit, had all taken so much longer than he had anticipated. Plus, the nerves. Tom brushed a hand through his short, still damp hair, taking another sip of his piping hot tea. He hadn't slept a wink the previous night, to the point where Chris had actually complained about his tossing and turning. They'd both been excited about knowing that India would come to stay the night, but Tom suspected they'd been excited for very different reasons.

Tom checked his watch, it was 3.30pm. His stomach growled, he'd only had a small bite to eat mid-morning. There were certainly better ways to greet his new boyfriend's still-wife and their baby... but in truth, the whole situation was completely messed up, and if he was honest to himself, about one million things could go wrong each time they met.

The doorbell rang and Tom's blood pressure sky rocketed. He downed the cup of tea, burning his tongue, and, still hissing, hobbled to the door as he was trying to put his slippers on while he was walking. He managed to reach the door and hit the intercom, glaring at his right foot. The woolen sock had somehow caught on a decorative buckle and he found himself leaning against the dresser, his right foot on his left knee, trying to untangle one from the other as he spoke. "Yes?"

"It's us," he heard Elsa.

"Do you need help carrying anything?" Tom asked, finally ripping the thread of his sock impatiently to free it from the impertinent buckle. "Third floor."

"Um... yes."

"I'll be right down."

He almost forgot to pack his keys in his hurry and contemplated for a split second how incredibly embarrassing it would have been to be locked out as he sprinted down the stairs. But then there was no time for such thoughts any more as he opened the door, and in front of it was Elsa, Chris' wife, and their baby, India. And India was clearly not in a good mood, bleary-eyed and fussy.

"She's super tired," Elsa said. "Half an hour past her naptime. We should put her down first."

"Um, yeah, okay... up the stairs," Tom directed, diving for the baby bag by Elsa's feet. "Is that all?"

"She's just staying the night," Elsa said firmly.

"Um, yes, okay." Tom's heart was thumping painfully in his chest as he climbed after Elsa. "Did you find it okay?"

"I took a cab and you gave me the address," Elsa quipped. "We found it."

Tom waved at India who was peeking at him over her mother's shoulder, her fist in her mouth. She blinked at him, her fist wiping uncoordinatedly across her chin, leaving strands of saliva around her lips. He saw her eyelids droop, and her head leaning against her mother's, realizing that Elsa was right, that was one tired baby.

He slipped past Elsa on the landing and opened the door for them. "Come on in," he said. He walked through to the living room to set down India's bag, then returned. "Let me hold her for a moment while you take off your jacket," he offered matter-of-factly.

Elsa gave him a look, but complied, handing India over.

He couldn't help smiling as he accepted her and settled her in his right arm. "Hey baby," he cooed. "Did you have a nice car ride?" India stared at him, fascinated by his voice.

"She nearly fell asleep several times," Elsa said, slipping out of her coat.

Tom managed to catch it with his left hand and put it up on the wardrobe. Elsa gave him a questioning look. "Shoes off?"

"If you like," he said. He preferred it, but he wouldn't make a fuss about it.

She slipped out of her shoes and stepped around him into the living room, without attempting to take India back.

He happily rocked the baby as he followed her mother. Tom felt the urge to cuddle and coo, but he thought he shouldn't, while Elsa was still around. But he couldn't help smiling at her and brushing a hand over the soft hair peeking out from under her little cap, and she caught his hand and furrowed her brow as she clasped his little finger with a surprisingly strong grip.

Elsa saw it and seemed to dismiss it right away, her expression impassive. Tom wasn't sure what to think about it.

"Do you want the quick tour?" Tom asked. "Or rather settle India first?"

"She'll probably fall asleep in a second anyway," Elsa said, indicating India's drooping lids. "Where's she supposed to sleep?"

Tom tried not to sound too eager. "We have a room ready for her upstairs," he said. "But there's also a day bed down here in case she gets scared of being alone, or for a nap..."

"Which one is it?" she cut his deliberations short.

"I'd rather settle her down here," he said.

"Fine."

"Does she need changing?" Tom rubbed the baby's tummy absent-mindedly.

"No, I did that before we left." She looked around in the living room. "There?"

"Yeah, that's the corner we set up for her," Tom said, following Elsa. Right now, it was just a carefully tooled and painted wooden toy box and a colorful rug. Chris had assured him that once India had started to figure out how to get to the toys, mayhem would ensue. Tom was ready for mayhem and didn't mind. Between the rug and the recliner, a graceful, light construction of a child's bed arose; Tom had splurged impossibly on this without ever telling Chris how much it had cost. He'd be chided without end; and he knew India would quickly grow out of it, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Think you'll be able to manage that?" Elsa asked, taking a seat at the edge of the recliner.

"Sure." Tom smiled. He was a bit nervous as he sat down, settling India on his lap. His hands felt too large when he opened the zipper of her small coat, and she squirmed when he took it off, making little noises and reaching for her mum, clearly wanting to be held by her, instead.

"Sweetie, let Tom settle you down," Elsa said, shaking the baby's little booted foot playfully.

"How far do you strip her down to nap?" Tom wanted to know, feeling a bit awkward to be watched.

"Do you have a sleeping bag for her?" Elsa asked.

"Uh-huh. It's in the crib."

"She's wearing tights and a light undershirt, that should be enough," Elsa said. "Better zip her in first and then carry her until she falls asleep on your arm," she instructed, then got up to retrieve the sleeping bag. "If you zip her in when she's just fallen asleep she'll wake up again."

"Okay."

"For when you settle her down at night, I've brought pajamas for her to wear," Elsa explained. "They're more comfortable."

"What time should I get her down?" Tom put the squirming baby on her back and finished undressing her, then accepted the sleeping bag and needed a moment to figure out where to settle what so he'd get the baby into the bag. Her little arms and legs were flailing about, and she started to complain about being handled by him. He huffed, a little frustrated. "Do you want to do it?"

"I'll be gone in half an hour," Elsa said. "Better try it now." She handed him a dummy, and he put it in India's mouth. It had an instant effect.

He exhaled, and gave Elsa an insecure smile. "Sorry. It's been a while since my sister's kids were that small."

"You're doing fine," she assured him.

He managed to put India's second arm through its dedicated hole and finally zippered up the bag. India was sucking her dummy and just blinked sleepily at Tom when he turned her around and settled her in his arm again. "Now what?"

"Now you can show me around," Elsa said. "I'm fairly sure she's going to be asleep in a few minutes."

"Okay." He gingerly got up and settled India against his chest, finding that he was rocking her as he walked Elsa over to the kitchen. "We bought a high chair for her," he explained. "Chris said she's starting solid food?"

"I brought a few baby glasses," Elsa said. "She's in love with lamb, carrots and potatoes at the moment. You can warm some up for her when she wakes up, but she still takes a bottle before she goes to sleep."

"We bought some of those," Tom said, showing Elsa around. "Chris got the formula you use."

"I see." Elsa took a quick look around.

"We got a changing table for her in the bathroom," Tom said. "Chris had me buy a baby tub because mine is too big. You want to see that, too?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's through the bedroom?" Showing Chris' wife through the bedroom he used with Chris was awkward for him, and he had no idea how Elsa must feel.

"Okay." He could see her brace her shoulders.

Tom was very glad he had made sure all their usual supplements were out of sight, and the bed was nicely made. Yes, there were two pillows and two duvets, both of which were covered with a large bedspread, and other than that, the bedroom was immaculate. They'd put Chris' suitcases up in the attic to get them out of sight, and Tom had cleaned up after them this morning, making sure none of Chris' clothes would be visible. No, he didn't like to hide, but he wasn't a cruel person, either. The whole place reeked of his new relationship with his best friend of three years; the recliner they had sat on earlier had been used to cuddle and make love, so had the bed, so had the kitchen, the sofa, the bathroom, the shower, the tub... there wasn't a surface in this flat that hadn't some sort of memory imprinted on it of them desperately trying to catch up on three lost years within the span of two weeks.

Luckily, Elsa could not see those ghosts; all she saw were spotless surfaces... and two toothbrushes in the bathroom; Chris' supplies neatly decked out beside Tom's on the shelf over his only wash basin, his brush neatly beside Tom's, his bathrobe beside Tom's on the hooks outside the shower.

Elsa saw it as soon as she stepped in, and she stood stock still, just staring at the display, her fists slowly clasping and unclasping.

An apology was already on Tom's lips, but he held it back. What was he supposed to say? _I'm sorry, I should've put that away?_ He watched Elsa take a long look around, stepping over to the shower to take a peek inside, no doubt seeing Chris' shampoo and shower gel in there. The tub was only stacked with Tom's supplies, and on the wall to its right was India's changing table, whose surface could be lifted and revealed a plastic baby tub that could either be used right there, or taken out and put somewhere else.

"Better put that in the tub when you bathe her," Elsa said, her voice surprisingly composed. "She splashes and moves a lot."

"I will." He was still rocking India, who was doing her best to take everything in, but was quickly losing against an overwhelming sleepiness. "Elsa, I'm sorry."

"Don't," she said quietly. "You said you had a room for her?"

"Yeah, upstairs," he pointed out. "But I think India is ready to go down now."

"Okay, let's give it a try."

"Can you please do it this time, so I can watch you and know what to do later tonight?" Tom asked.

"Yeah." She took her sleepy daughter out of his arm and settled her against her shoulder, rocking her on her way back to the living room. "What time will Chris be back?" she asked.

"Around 10, if he's lucky," Tom said, following her, very happy that he could close all doors behind him.

"So probably half past eleven?" she asked, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

"Probably." He moved over to the recliner and sorted through India's discarded things. He realized he wasn't really equipped for a baby, still, when he didn't quite know where to put her little coat and cap, and the tiny boots. He gathered everything and stored them in the wardrobe in the hallway, the booties displayed proudly on top the dresser. He had an unreal moment of _Oh my god, I'm becoming a father_ running through him, which he quickly dismissed. He stood in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the doorjamb, taking in the picture of Elsa rocking her child to sleep. She was whispering to her in Spanish and rubbing her back, and India had settled her head against her mother's shoulder, listening to her with drooping eyes while sucking on her dummy.

Elsa had never been to his flat before, while Chris had basically lived here whenever he was in London. Tom had never missed having her along; he was glad about the uncomplicated, easy-going friendship with Chris, in which Elsa had not been included. Unconsciously, he thought, he had always regarded her as the disturber of the peace, of taking Chris away from him, changing their friendship so fundamentally by her very presence. So he really didn't mind having Chris to himself when he visited, while he had to contend with her whenever he went over to see Chris.

And now her and India's sudden presence meant that Chris was his, and she was out of Chris' life. Tom crossed his arms and ankles, furrowing his brow as he tried to figure out what it all meant. He didn't mind her any more, didn't mind being supportive, didn't mind that she was here – because it meant things had changed, and with knowing that Chris would be his, he could suddenly be generous.

She turned, and looked at him across the room. "Is she asleep?" she asked in a low voice.

"Uh-huh." He crossed over to her.

"Okay then." She gently took India off her shoulder and settled her in her new bed. Elsa straightened the new sleeping bag and pulled the little blanket over her, brushing India's cheek affectionately. "Now let's hope that's it," she said.

They looked at each other, without the baby as a buffer between them.

"So when do you have to leave?" Tom asked. "Do you have time for a cup of tea?"

"Really?" she asked, her tone disbelieving.

Tom shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because you're sleeping with my husband," she said.

"You're leaving your baby here," Tom pointed out relentlessly. "In the long run, we'll have to figure this out, Elsa."

"Not today." She straightened her shoulders, but Tom could see that her chin trembled.

He wanted to say something consoling to her, but he was fairly certain that it took all of her composure to even be here. So he nodded curtly. "Do you still want to see India's room?"

"Yes."

"Right behind you, up the stairs."

She was so tiny, as she climbed the steps in front of him, so very much not like Tom, her well-toned butt waving gracefully right before his eyes. She'd never been his type, but very much Chris', he noted, almost as if someone else had these thoughts, not him. She opened the door to the nursery and stood there for a moment, taking it in.

"We haven't had a chance to have it painted or anything," Tom apologized. "It's basically my old office, but I hope she'll like it."

Elsa shook her head. "Is that Chris' idea of a nursery?" she asked, her voice a little shaky after all.

"Um... I don't know, Elsa. We picked it kind of together," Tom said. He knew that Chris had very much enjoyed being able to have a say in his daughter's room this time, but he wasn't going to tell Elsa that. "Is it not okay?"

"Just totally different from what I bought," Elsa said. She slowly walked into the room, taking it in. "Though with all the traveling we've been doing, she's hardly seen it." She stood, her hand resting on the edge of the crib, and sightlessly gazed outside.

Tom was reminded of the fact that before they'd thrown all his things out, a day bed had stood there, and both he and Chris had spent some time on it, talking to Elsa on the phone. Tom was fairly certain that the very spot that Elsa just stood in had been the very spot in which Chris had told her that he would not come back to her but stay with Tom, instead. Tom could see the layers of history, blurring the present moment and throwing it into focus at the same time.

"I think I've seen enough," Elsa said. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

When she turned around, he could see tears brimming in her eyes.

"Let me make you a cup of tea," he offered again.

"And then what, Tom?" she asked. "We'll be best friends?"

"I'm not your enemy," Tom said.

"Well, you're not my friend, either," Elsa gave back.

"No. But it looks like we'll be in each other's lives for a while, so I'd like to make it as painless as possible."

"Well, that's a little late now, isn't it?" She waved him away. "I didn't come to talk about that with you."

"I've told you before, if there is something I can do to help...?"

"You could give me my husband back, eh?" She stood before him defiantly, her hands at her hips.

Her courage impressed him. "He's not mine to give to anyone," Tom said quietly. "It was his own decision and still is."

"But you didn't throw him out of your bed, either," she stated.

"No." He inclined his head. "I had a choice, hurt him by saying no, hurt you by saying yes. I'm guilty of choosing to rather hurt you than him."

"Like you didn't want him the same way," she accused.

"That would be a more complicated answer than you might think," he said, raising a brow at her. He realized he was rather enjoying this little bit of verbal sparring with her. It was better than just anonymously feel guilty, better than knowing she was somewhere out there as some heartbroken shadow that haunted both him and Chris. "Fact is, he's made his decision. We can either harp on it or figure out how to live with each other somehow."

Elsa snorted.

"Come on, I'll get you that tea while you tell me what I need to know about taking care of India until Chris comes home tonight."

* * *

  


He breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally clapped in Elsa's wake and felt a wave of exhaustion crash over him. Leaning his forehead against the wooden surface, he didn't move until her footsteps down the stairs were counterpointed by the closing of the main door. His stomach rumbled once more, the few biscuits he'd had with tea just a moment ago serving rather as an appetizer than appeasing his rampant hunger.

But there was one thing he needed to do before he could get to that.

He dug out his phone and tiptoed over to the crib. He peered in; India was sleeping peacefully. Her dummy had fallen out and her head was turned aside, both fists beside her ears. He carefully gave her the dummy back and rearranged the fluffy bunny she always slept with, then took a photo of the peaceful scene with his phone. He then sent a quick message to Chris, attaching the photo, knowing that he was most likely on the sound stage and couldn't answer. But he had promised to let him know when India had arrived, and having kept his promise, he put the phone back in his trouser pocket and made his way into the kitchen for some well-earned tea.

He was just flipping his chicken breast in the pan when the phone rang, and, without looking at the caller ID, he answered it. "Hi honey," he said. "Isn’t she the cutest thing?"

Instead of an immediate answer, there was stunned silence.

Tom blinked. "Um, hello?" he tried a second time.

"Am I talking to Tom Hiddleston?" came a careful, deep-voiced reply in rather polished English.

"Ben!" Tom laughed. "Yeah, it's me."

"Am I interrupting anything?" the actor asked carefully. "It sounds like you're busy... or waiting for another call?"

"No, yes, and yes," Tom said good-naturedly. "Where are you?"

"Home, actually," Ben said. "For one night. I'm flying out to Japan tomorrow... the house is cold and quiet and I've packed everything. I thought you might like to go out for a pint."

"I can't," Tom said regretfully. "I'm babysitting. But I'm just fixing some tea – want to come over? I could use a hand with the salad."

"Say no more," Benedict said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Just don't ring the bell, the baby's sleeping," Tom said. "Give me a buzz, I'll let you in."

  


* * *

  


By the time Ben had arrived, Tom had quickly grilled another chicken breast to go with his own. True to his word, Ben buzzed his phone and Tom let him in by hitting the intercom, then hurried back to the kitchen where his food was still on the oven top.

Ben had let himself in so many times, Tom didn't worry about it, and wasn't surprised when his immaculately dressed friend stood in the kitchen doorway in his stockinged feet. "Cute baby," he said, a big smile on his face. "Whose is it?"

"Chris Hemsworth's." Tom wiped his hands on a towel and didn't lose any time to envelop his friend in a huge hug. "Good to see you, mate. How have you been?"

Ben beamed at him. "Good, good. What's for tea, though, I'm starving."

"I'm just roasting some croutons to go with the salad you're making." Tom indicated the board he had set up, complete with the ingredients and a huge salad bowl. "I have a few chicken breasts in the oven and have some corn on the cob to go with it. Sandwiches, if you like?"

"Eclectic," Ben commented, but was already rolling his sleeves.

"Tight leather costume," Tom said.

"Oh right, you're still in the middle of _Thor_ ," Benedict said. "How is that going?"

They chatted amiably over preparing the food, as they had done so many times before. Tom checked the clock; Elsa had warned him that India shouldn't be sleeping for too long or she would take forever to go to sleep at night and then be fussy for most of it. And since Tom very much intended to spend some time with Chris when he came home, without being interrupted by a baby every five minutes, he was intending to take her instructions literally.

But they still had twenty minutes to spare, and Tom quickly set the table and splurged on taking out some light white wine with the food.

"So," Ben said after they'd clinked glasses and took a sip, "Not that I want to pry, but... earlier on the phone? _Honey?_ I take it you weren't talking to me?"

"Eh heh heh, no." Tom chuckled, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork. "Um..." Blinking, he realized that Benedict had not been prone to the last two weeks' developments and was in for quite a surprise. Well. _Once more into the breach._

"Is it someone I know? Oh, I really shouldn't be so curious!" Ben laughed. "I've been out of the loop for too long. It feels like I'm missing everyone's life while I'm away. So please do tell."

"Um, it's been quite a story," Tom hedged, suddenly not quite so sure how to broach the subject with his unsuspecting friend. When you were part of the story, like Chris and him, it felt like a natural development and completely made sense. When you were outside of it, possibly not so much. Tom blinked and took another gulp of white whine to win some time. "This came as a bit of a surprise to me, too," he finally said, his heart thumping in his chest. "And I'm not quite sure how to phrase it, but... it's not a she, it's a he." He eyed Ben for a reaction, not sure what to expect.

"Blimey!" Benedict nearly spewed his wine and dabbed his lips with a napkin. "I'm sorry, Tom, I don't know what came over me. Of course that's okay! Just a little unexpected, that's all."

Tom felt relief wash over him that this was his friend’s reaction to the news. "Don't worry," he said mildly, "Trust me, it came unexpected for me, too."

"So..." Ben tried his hardest not to look too curious, failing miserably. "Who is the lucky fellow? Or aren't you supposed to say?"

"Um, it's someone I met a few years ago," Tom said. "We hit it off right away but... I guess I wasn't ready to go there yet."

"I had no idea," Ben said.

"Trust me, me neither," Tom said ironically. "Like I said, it was quite a surprise for me, too. We met again a few weeks ago and... I don't know. Things had changed." He throughtfully chewed a forkful of salad. "I'd really missed him."

"Gosh, Tom, I'm feeling really honored you're feeling comfortable enough to tell me!" Ben said.

"Like two complete idiots we moved in with each other right away," Tom confessed. "So it's not like it's going to stay a secret forever – and I want my friends to know. I know I can trust you."

"He's already moved in?" Ben sat up a little straighter.

"His baby's sleeping in the living room," Tom confided, knowing that Ben would now put two and two together.

Which Ben did. Tom could see the realization dawn on his face of who exactly Tom was together with. "Oh, _Tom_ ," he said. "Chris? Really?"

"I know," Tom picked listlessly in his salad, "what it may look like from the outside. Actually, people have already told me that what we're doing is a horrible thing."

"Tom, I know you, you're not doing anything like this lightly," Ben said. "If you fell in love, you fell in love."

"That about covers it," Tom said, knowing he must sound pretty lovesick. "He's honestly the best thing that's ever happened to me and trust me, I fought this valiantly."

"Not your style," Ben said around a piece of chicken.

"Hm?"

"You're always looking for the truth in the different facets of the human condition. I don't see you living a lie once you've uncovered it."

"Chris helped me figure it out," Tom said thoughtfully. "And then there was no way back. It all happened at once."

"How many years again?" Ben probed.

"Three and a half."

"Hm." Ben grinned. "The romantic in me is really delighted," he confided. "Even though I'm aware of the difficult situation your new paramour is in."

"Paramour." Tom laughed loudly. "That's lovely. I'll have to tell him when he comes home tonight."

"I take it the feeling is mutual?" Ben asked.

"He's also not taking this lightly, so, yes," Tom said, cutting another piece of meat. He stopped, listening for a sound he thought he'd heard. "Ben, excuse me, I think I'm hearing India. I'll be right back."

"Sure." Ben gave him a bright smile.

Sure enough, when Tom entered the living room, he heard the baby gurgling in her cot. She didn't sound distressed, babbling to herself, so he approached her with a smile, leaning over the crib.

"Hey India," he greeted her. "Are you ready to get up? Hm?"

She waved her arms and gave a little shriek.

"Are you hungry, honey?" He opened the zipper of her sleeping bag, and she reached for him to take her out. She'd known him since she'd been born and had always liked to be played with and held, and she seemed to trust that he would be okay. "Laid back just like your dad," Tom said, picking her up. "Hey little lady, did you sleep well?" He rubbed her tummy, and she gnawed on her fist, giggling.

"Let's check your nappy, huh?" He made a grab for her little jumper and trousers as he passed the recliner, and took her over to the bathroom to get business done. A few moments later, he came back to the kitchen with a clean baby.

"Look who's here, India," he said. "It's uncle Ben!"

Benedict, who was a certified child nut, waved at her. "Hello there, India! Nice to meet you!"

"Would you mind holding her while I fix her food?" Tom asked, and had already placed her in Ben's lap. "Thank you."

"So," Ben said cheerfully to Tom, as he was letting India ride on his thigh, "In the last two weeks, you moved in with Chris Hemsworth and became a father. Anything else I've missed?"

  


* * *

  


It was a quarter to ten by the time Chris turned his key in the lock. He was quiet about it, not sure what state he would find Tom and India in. If either of them was already sleeping, he didn't want to disturb them, even though he was dying to interact with both.

Tom had sounded upbeat and cheerful when they had talked earlier on the phone, and the mere thought that India was having such a good time hanging out with him made him happy. Chris deposited the keys in their usual spot on the dresser and noticed India's booties and coat on a hanger in the wardrobe, and he had to stop for a moment to try and calm his racing heart.

He stepped into the living room and found it still softly lit. "Tom?" he asked in a low voice.

"We're here," he heard Tom's exhausted voice. "Thank god you're home."

He found them on the sofa, Tom on his back, and India sleeping on his stomach, covered by a blanket.

Chris kneeled by their side and kissed Tom. "What happened?" he asked, his heart nearly bursting at the picture.

"It all started out okay," Tom said. "But at some point she started missing her mummy and screamed for her for the next two hours. There was nothing I could do to calm her down, she was completely inconsolable."

"She's sleeping now," Chris said.

"Yeah." Tom yawned. "She fell asleep from exhaustion about half an hour ago, the poor thing. I guess I must have dozed off with her."

"I'm sorry she's been difficult," Chris said, stroking over his sleeping daughter's back.

"She's a baby and she just moved from Spain to London and now in with us," Tom said. "I'd be difficult if I were her."

"Thank you for understanding."

"Hey Chris," Tom reached up to cup his face.

"Hm?"

"Happy two-week anniversary, love."

Chris closed his eyes, taking in Tom’s touch and the gravity of the moment.

“Do you want to join us?” Tom asked, already scooting further back.

There was a gift waiting for Tom. There were things to talk about. “Yeah.” Chris lifted the blanket and slipped under it. Tom had to angle his body so they would both fit, and India came to rest partly on Chris' chest, and partly on Tom's, snuggled in between them. She mewled in her sleep and then cuddled into Chris, her hand grabbing on to his shirt and not letting go.

“It’s okay, honey,” Tom soothed, obviously seeing how overwhelmed Chris was.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to top this as an anniversary present,” Chris whispered. “Thank you.”

He knew quite well that without Tom’s intervention, not only would India not be here right now; he might have to face not seeing her for months, with unsure prospects as to when that situation might end. Lying in Tom’s right arm, he cradled his daughter in his own and kissed her head, inhaling that baby scent that he so loved. Then he stretched up and kissed his boyfriend, and his baby again, and Tom once more.

“Hey.” Tom pressed his forehead to his. “It’s okay, Chris. We’re both here, everything’s okay.”

“I’m unraveling because you’re both here,” Chris said. “I never thought I’d be able to have that.”

“That’s okay, then,” Tom soothed. “Like I said, happy anniversary, Chris. It was hard to top last week, but it looks like I did.”

"Yes." It finally made Chris smile. “You certainly have.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom grapples with his role in India's life.

Tom was ready to step back and leave father and daughter alone, but Chris wouldn't have it.

"You're not going anywhere," he quietly insisted when Tom tried to gently extract himself to give the two of them a moment alone.

"Chris, I smell, your precious bundle of joy spit up on me earlier," Tom protested half-heartedly.

"You smell fine to me." Chris pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together. "Your lips do, anyway."

Tom couldn't help being pulled in. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too. It's half the fun on the set when you're not there."

"Bet you get more work done."

"Not really." Chris kissed him, taking his time to do it properly.

Tom loved the way Chris’ fingers brushed through the short hair on the back of his head, holding him in place so he could be properly kissed. He felt himself react, a soft sigh escaping him, and Chris smiled into the kiss.

"That's better."

"Chris, I don't think it's appropriate if we're making love while India is sleeping on top of us."

"I want her to know that this is okay."

"She's asleep." Tom rested his hand on the tiny back.

"Then which is it?" Chris asked, smiling. "Are we corrupting her or is she missing all the fun?"

"Chris," Tom said, blushing a little. "My body is getting ready for a little more than just kissing."

"I'll put her down," Chris offered immediately.

"Wait." Tom held on to his wrist. "Don't you want to spend some time with her?"

Chris just looked at him. Tom couldn't quite figure out what the look meant; it was a mix of quiet patience, love, and simply marveling at him.

"Hm?" Tom asked, but he couldn't help being a bit charmed by the expression on Chris' face. "What's going on?"

"Life is going to change," Chris said quietly. His eyes didn't leave Tom's. "I love you for being so ready to include her... but the time we're going to have to ourselves is going to be cut a lot shorter." He leaned in to kiss Tom once more, until Tom's toes curled and his fingers dug into Chris' biceps. "I'll be a much better daddy to her tomorrow morning if I have my fill of you tonight," Chris murmured.

"I just don't want her to feel she's missing out because you're now with me," Tom insisted quietly. Chris just looked at him, his thumb stroking over Tom's ear. Tom wanted to purr. He really wanted to keep kissing Chris. He desperately wanted to get lost in his lover. "But I need you, too," he finally admitted, feeling a little chagrined.

"Good." Chris kissed him again. "I promise there will be plenty of times when she comes first, whether we want her to or not. But right now, all she needs is a good night's sleep. And I need you."

Tom nodded, and he angled his head until it fell against Chris' shoulder, just under his chin.

"I feel like I'm intruding," Tom said. "You two should have a moment to yourself."

"Tom..." Chris said in quiet desperation. "I want this moment with you. You've been taking care of India the whole day. I've missed you the whole day. Why would I want to send you off now that I'm home?"

"Because I'm not family, and family takes precedence," Tom said.

"You say that again and I'll kick you off your own sofa," Chris threatened. Tom could very well hear how serious he was about it. He felt Chris' hand on his jaw and looked up. "You really hurt me when you say things like that," Chris said. "Please don't."

"I'm sorry." But he didn't quite understand what had upset Chris.

"Give me this moment, Tom," Chris said. "Just you and me and her, before all hell breaks loose, before she wakes us up at night, before I have to face Elsa tomorrow. Just this moment when everything seems so right that it seems nothing can go wrong. Let me have that bit of illusion."

Tom smiled. "Okay." He settled back down against Chris' shoulder. Chris adjusted until India was sprawled over his massive chest, sucking on her dummy, and Tom was lying in his arm, one leg and an arm wrapped around his lover. After a while, he found himself stroking India's soft hair. "She's so cute."

"Hm," Chris agreed.

"Pair of lungs she has on her, too. Tempestuous. Tenacious. I felt so sorry for her. How do you settle her down when she's so upset?"

"Swinging," Chris murmured. "She likes it when you swing her. The movement calms her down."

"I'm going to watch you do it tomorrow," Tom said.

"Did she have her bottle?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, though half of it landed back on my shirt when she was so upset she spit it all up again."

"I'm sorry." Chris kissed his forehead.

Tom shrugged. "Nothing that couldn't be washed."

They settled down for a while, and then Chris turned his head and whispered in Tom's ear. "Tom, I really want to make love to you."

"Oh."

"Will you forgive me if I put down my sleeping daughter to come and be with you?"

Tom was also whispering when he answered. "Yes." And he smiled.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chris got ready to go upstairs to change India and asked Tom to fix another bottle for her.

"She's not going to sleep through the night otherwise," Chris explained.

"It's no bother," Tom said. "I like doing it."

"You're a saint."

"No, just hopelessly in love with her father."

Tom brought the bottle upstairs when it was ready and found father and daughter ensconced in the rocking chair, quietly conversing. India was awake, and she reacted to Chris’ attention with delighted squeals and kicks and an expression of joy and fascination that Tom could completely understand. He handed over the bottle and wanted to turn around to leave, but Chris' voice followed him.

"Tom, don’t go."

"Oh, Chris."

“I haven’t seen you all day. Please stay and keep me company.” 

Chris’ voice was pleading, and Tom couldn’t say no. He folded himself in front of the cot, his chin on his knees. “I just don’t want to intrude. I always hated it when Fred and Vicky tried to insert themselves into what little time I had with Mum and Dad.”

“You’re _not intruding_ , Tom. Honestly.” Chris sounded the slightest bit irritated now. He offered the bottle to the excitedly kicking baby. “Are you hungry, little sparrow?” A moment later, she was sucking fervently, blinking contentedly at her father. “She’s fine, see?”

Tom scooted over to the rocking chair and leaned against Chris’ legs. He closed his eyes, concentrating solely on the warmth of his lover’s body and the contented sucking noises just above his ear. 

“I want to love her,” he said quietly. “But I don’t know if she can learn to love me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I broke up her parents?” Tom said. “Isn’t that enough?” He felt Chris’ legs fold around him and laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Hugging you while my arms are otherwise occupied,” Chris said. “You can’t leave this alone, can you?”

“My mind is going a mile a minute,” Tom admitted. “It’s so unreal that she’s actually here.” He reached up and fondly caressed her little toes. “It changes everything.”

“Yeah.” Chris sighed. “It does.” He lifted India so he could kiss her forehead. “When I hold her it’s as if everything is like always, and then I look up and I realize where I am, and that you’re here.”

Tom listened attentively.

“It’s like two realities overlap. I’m not sure what to make of it yet.” He rubbed his foot against Tom’s belly affectionately. “I just know I need you close. I want both of you. When you’re not here, it’s eerie to be alone with her in this room, if you know what I mean.”

“Not sure,” Tom admitted.

“It’s like I’m here with her in a vacuum. All the missing parts are so apparent. That we’re not with Elsa, that something is missing. It makes all of this so final, and it feels so brutal.”

“Do you miss Elsa?” Tom asked.

“It's not that, really. It’s just that she’s always been there when India was, and that we did everything with India together. When I’m alone with India right now, it’s all becoming so real.”

“What is?” Tom looked up, wanting to see Chris’ face. He wasn’t upset; Chris’ words were not threatening to him.

“The consequences of what I’ve done,” Chris said on a dry voice. “When it’s been just you and me, it’s been like a dream come true, and now I finally have to deal with the consequences and the hard realities and that just… scares me to pieces. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Tom settled himself between Chris' knees, and his lover's legs closed around him fondly. He leaned his head against India's warm body, just letting the moment of peace wash over him. Of course he wouldn't admit it, but having India be so upset about being left with him for hours on end had made him weary and cautious. He was so glad to have Chris take on the responsibility again now. "I'm not sure..." he started, furrowing his brow.

"Hm?"

"Never mind." He shook his head and laughed.

"Tell me." Chris nudged him.

"She was so upset with me," Tom said. "It all started out really nicely, and then... Rationally, I understand that she's so small, and she doesn't really know me that well and missed her Mummy and Daddy. But I'd hoped... hoped she'd like it here. That this could be her home." He gave Chris an unsure look. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do – or what role I can realistically play in her life. I kind of thought it would all fall into place... maybe it still will... but right now... If she can't love me, what are we going to do?"

"It was a tough evening, huh?" Chris asked, his brow knitted with compassion.

Tom contemplated lying, but then just said: "Yeah. It was pretty awful. She made it very clear that I was not what she wanted."

"You are what I want," Chris said quietly.

"I know." Tom had to smile and placed a fond kiss on Chris' hand that was holding India's bottle. It was the closest thing available. "But it's like you said – for you it's the reality that Elsa is kind of missing in the mix, and at the same time, you want what you have with me. And for me, it's like... I've been the stepson for most of my life, I know what that's like. I know how she feels."

"And now you're suddenly on the other side."

"Yes. It's weird. I kind of thought if you brought her home, it would be like family – but it's not. You, Elsa and India are the family. India knows that. I'm not really sure yet what I'm going to be."

"Are you going to stick around to find out?" Chris asked. Tom could see the alarm in his eyes.

"Of course," Tom said. "That's not the question, Chris."

"What is?"

"How we get all of us arranged in this Easter basket of ours," Tom said. "If it's not falling into place, we'll have to work for it." He reached out for India's little hand and stroked it. "Hm, little pea?"

India gave him a look around her bottle and waved her arm at him.

He smiled. "Yeah, now you're a brave little girl, aren't you?"

Her hand reached out for him and he placed his finger in her palm for her to grasp. Once she had him firmly in hand, her eyes returned to rest on her father's face, who smiled back at her.

"Everything's better when Daddy's home, hm?" Tom smiled, and he reached up to rub her soft belly. "We have that in common, you and I. I think everything's better when your Dad is home, too."

"Tom, would you read us a story?" Chris asked in a low voice. "I think she's drowsy enough to fall asleep."

"Sure." Happy he had something to do, Tom dove for the bookshelf. "Any special requests?"

"Just something that you can read for maybe ten minutes," Chris said. He stroked his daughter's head. "Look who's sleepy, huh, India?" He unplugged the empty bottle with a little pop, and India waved at him with both arms. He settled her on his thighs and wiped her milky lips with a spit-up cloth, which he then placed on his shoulder and settled India there, softly tapping her back, rocking back and forth in the chair.

Tom watched the scene and couldn't help feeling touched. "You are so good with her," he marveled. "I wish I could paint this."

Chris smiled and winked, his socked foot rubbing against Tom's knee. "Start reading?" he requested.

"Okay." Tom opened the book of Welsh fairy tales he had selected and chose a chapter. 

His expressive voice filled the room while Chris rocked the baby to sleep.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"I know it's our anniversary," Tom said about fifteen minutes later as they were walking down the steps. "Do you still want to do something?"

"Did you take the baby phone?" Chris asked. He was two steps behind Tom on the staircase and carried India's bottle and cloth.

"Yes." Tom held the apparatus in question aloft.

"Okay, stop right there," Chris requested.

"Hm?" Tom halted and turned around. "What is it?"

"Hold still." Chris leaned over him and lifted his chin. "This can't wait."

"What...oh." Tom smiled, charmed, as Chris kissed him softly. "Oh."

"Shhhh." Chris hushed him. He stuffed the bottle in his jeans pocket and added a second hand, enjoying the way Tom's lips yielded to his own and he kissed him very tenderly, solely concentrating on the way Tom's breath hitched and he slowly became more pliant, melting against Chris' body. "Here we go."

"Pretty much putty in your hands," Tom murmured. "Hmmm... you're such a good kisser."

"Glad you think so." Chris grinned. "Is that okay for an anniversary starter?"

"If there's more to come?" Tom ventured.

"Maybe," Chris said.

"Why just maybe?"

"Maybe if I dare to give you the present I got you."

"Oh Chris I didn't get you anyth..."

"You gave me my daughter back," Chris reminded him. "I don't think I can top that anyway."

"And then I spent the past hour complaining about her," Tom said, chagrined. "I'm sorry."

Chris placed a kiss on his forehead and nudged him to keep walking down the stairs. "Would you like to do this again the next time? Bring her to bed with me like that, I mean?" Chris asked.

"Yeah." Tom smiled, heading for the kitchen. "That was really nice."

"I think she likes your voice," Chris said.

"I think she liked falling asleep on your arm," Tom said. "I mean, she hasn't seen you in two weeks."

"And I think she likes your voice," Chris insisted, raising a brow at him. "You can't wonder aloud whether India will ever like you and then ignore it when she shows that she does."

"Eh..." Tom put the baby phone on the counter. His eyes fell on the wall clock. "Oh god, it is already eleven," he groaned.

Chris put the bottle right beside it and reeled Tom into an embrace. "Leaves us an hour to celebrate," he murmured.

"Eheheheheh." Tom smiled as he slung his arms around Chris' neck. "Technically, our first time was on a Saturday," he murmured and licked his lips. "I think it was around 3 in the morning."

"Leaves us four hours, at least," Chris said appreciatively. He held Tom tightly pressed against his body. "And you're wearing too much."

"Hmmm...." Tom felt the familiar flame of arousal shoot through is belly. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know." Chris nuzzled into Tom's neck and pulled out his shirt at the same time. "How about I'll start with that..." He inhaled Tom's scent as his thumbs brushed over Tom's skin.

Tom hummed in the back of his throat. "Promising," he purred. "What's your next move, Hemsworth?"

"Kiss me," Chris demanded.

"Come get it." But Tom didn't leave him waiting, both hands framing Chris' face and pulling him into a kiss.

They pushed away from the island and moved through the kitchen, Chris skillfully mapping the skin on Tom's back, causing the other man to shiver with pleasure and break out in goosebumps.

"Dance with me," Tom requested, his voice rough.

"Gladly." Chris lead him into a slow circle. "What music would you like?"

"Your heartbeat," Tom murmured, and kissed him again.

Chris smiled, his lover's closeness slowly threatening to overwhelm his senses, and he had no intention whatsoever to stop it from happening. He closed his eyes, resting his head against Tom's, and let the long day wash away. The take they had to redo fifteen times, the technical problems that had held them up for nearly two hours, making him fear he wouldn't be able to come home to Tom and his daughter at all. How he had worried all day until Tom's call finally came through that India had arrived and was fine. How he had rushed everyone to get him out of his costume and out of make-up, having to endure endless teasing about his hurry from people who had no idea about the real reason Chris had moved in with Tom. Didn't know how hard he'd fallen for his best friend, and what he was giving up to have him.

He sighed, letting himself relax into the embrace, into the slow movement around their kitchen in Tom's arms. He heard Tom starting to hum a melody, giving their movement a rhythm to set their steps to, recognizing it, after a few bars, as Ed Sheeran's _Kiss Me_ , and his mind supplied the lyrics that would've been too sweet and too revealing for Tom to actually spell out. Chris reveled in feeling Tom's slender back under his left hand, the soft skin, slim muscles shifting under it, and his right hand cupped Tom's neck, brushing his thumb over the soft, short hair there. There were moments like this, inbetween the rush and business of their lives, that stole his breath and it felt as if the love he had for Tom was piercing his heart and soul to a point when it became almost too much to bear.

The way Tom's breath hitched and his arms shifted around him told him that Tom felt it, too, that impossible connection that had ignited the first time they had set eyes on each other, three years ago, and had smoldered in a friendship that they had both kept platonic for reasons that now seemed ridiculous and superficial. And then that moment, two weeks ago, when they'd dared, sink or swim, that first kiss that they'd both wanted so much, that first time of making love to each other, so joyfully, as if they had finally been able to release a breath they had been holding for too long.

" _Your heart's against my chest, lips pressed to my neck_ ," Tom quoted the lyrics softly, " _I've fallen for your eyes, but they don't know me yet_." Chris knew what would come next and smiled. " _And the feeling I forget. I'm in love now_."

Chris exhaled, listening intently as they moved.

" _Kiss me like you wanna be loved_ ," Tom hummed, and Chris could feel a shiver run through his whole body. " _Wanna be loved. Wanna be loved._ "

"Yes," Chris answered, smiling at him, and then did just that, taking his time, wanting to share precisely how Tom made him feel, the overwhelming affection and gentleness, wanting to keep him safe, wanting to be weak and letting himself fall in his regard. Knowing that whatever he revealed about himself would be taken without judgment, knowing he was absolutely safe with Tom in every aspect imaginable. " _This feels like I've fallen in love,_ " he picked up the lyrics from Tom. " _Fallen in love,_ " and Tom joined him on the last repeat. " _Fallen in love._ " They both lost their voices and simply moved with each other, basking in each other's presence.

"Settle down with me?" Chris finally asked, his voice trembling slightly. "I can't wait to make love with you."

"Like this?" Tom asked. "I want to make love with you the way we just danced."

"Hmmm, yes." Chris held him close. "Bedroom or living room, or...?"

"Bedroom. I want to have room to move."

Chris felt his body react, and he kissed Tom again, pressing his growing erection against his hip. "Yes," he said, his voice failing him once more. He shivered. "I can't wait."

"Come, then?" Tom grasped his hand and lead him towards the door.

"Let me get your present and I'll be right there." Chris reeled him in once more for a last kiss, having a hard time letting go. He felt Tom's arousal against him and pulled him closer, moving against him. "Oh god, what you do to me."

"Hurry," Tom whispered urgently. "Hurry."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris' two-week anniversary gift to Tom yields different results than he intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some super fluffy kink and sweet bondage in this. Basically, they're their usual romantic fools.

The bedroom was bathed in soft light when Chris came back, and he caught Tom on his knees in front of his nightstand, moving things to the top that they might need.

Tom's head popped up and he smiled at him. "Sorry," he said, "I put them away so Elsa wouldn't stumble over them."

"That would've been awkward," Chris agreed. He put the baby phone on the dresser and turned it on. He adjusted the volume so the musical box that had lulled India to sleep wasn't heard too loudly. "Sorry for the ambient music," he said. " _Je t'aime_ it ain't."

"It'll stop eventually," Tom said, surveying his bounty.

Chris let the present drop to the bed and moved around it to join Tom, sitting down behind him and looking over his shoulder.

"Will we need these?" Tom asked, lifting the condoms and his left eyebrow.

"Do you want to?" Chris asked, wrapping an arm around Tom's middle and kissing his neck.

"Just in case." Tom put them on top the nightstand decisively.

"We'll need this," Chris said, reaching for the slim vibrator Tom had bought a week ago as part of an anal play starter kit that they hadn't needed after all. "And you always say you never buy anything for me."

Tom shivered. "For you?" He gave Chris a look over his shoulder.

"Both of us," Chris said. He kissed the tip of Tom's nose. "Stop worrying, honey."

"I wasn't worrying, just thinking that if anything goes into you, I'd rather it be some part of me than a toy." Tom cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Oh!" 

"Unless you're not happy with what I do with you once I'm inside," Tom asked, running a fingertip up Chris' throat to his chin.

Chris gulped. "Very happy," he nodded swiftly.

"I adore you," Tom said. "It just needs to be said."

Chris felt a bit weak-kneed and wondered if the plans he'd had for both of them should be altered and he should just let Tom have his way with him and be done with it.

"You brought a present?" Tom asked.

Ah, too late. "Eh, yeah." Chris blushed. "Speaking of kinky things..."

He could virtually see Tom's ears prick and tail wag. "Yeah?"

"If you like it, I... have some things planned for us," Chris said, knowing that he blushed a deeper shade of red.

Tom smiled expectantly. "How would you like me?" he asked.

Chris chuckled, kissing him fondly. "Up on the bed would be a good start," he rumbled in the back of his throat.

Within a moment, they were both sitting cross-legged on the bed, and Chris handed over the carefully wrapped present with the bow on top. "Happy anniversary, Tom," he said.

Tom bounced with glee and shook the box. "It's kinky?"

"Yeah." Chris couldn't help but grin over Tom's enthusiasm. "Open it, honey."

Tom gave him a look of utter delight and untied the bow. The box was revealed and Tom took off the top. Nestled inside were four individually wrapped objects in different sizes.

"You're certainly making this interesting," Tom commented. He wiggled his fingers. "Which one should I open first?"

Chris reached in and handed him two identical sized objects. "These."

"This doesn't look like a dildo or vibrator," Tom said. "Kinky, you said?" He eyed him.

Chris chuckled. "Please just open them so I can get over my embarrassment."

Tom gave him a cheeky grin and unceremoniously wrapped the paper off one of the objects. "Oh Chris... is that what I think it is? Gosh." He gave Chris an appreciative look. "It's so gorgeous!"

"Yeah, well... open the other one. They obviously come in pairs."

Tom did, and held two finely tooled leather cuffs in his hands. They were made from soft white leather with a silver buckle and three D-rings attached to the studded outer band. The inside was lined with a soft red leather padding. "Will you put them on me?" Tom asked, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm sure you'll want to see if they fit." He held the cuffs out for Chris.

The sight shot directly to Chris' groin and he had to clear his throat repeatedly. He knew Tom was telling him that he wanted Chris to use them with him tonight, and even though Chris had planned on doing just that, knowing that Tom trusted him so implicitly was humbling indeed.

"Um, yeah," Chris mumbled, taking the cuffs from Tom's hands. He could clearly see the bulge in Tom's trousers, knowing that this affected him the same way. He shifted to sit closer to Tom and took one of his elegant, long-fingered hands in his, making sure to kiss the inside of his wrist appreciatively before opening the buckle. "I was worried," he said softly as he placed Tom's wrist into the cuff. "Your wrists were looking chafed and red when we used my ties the last time. I want you to be safe when we play." He gently closed the buckle, making sure he wasn't catching skin. He pulled at the D-rings experimentally. "Is that good?"

"A little tighter, Chris." There was a fire burning behind Tom's eyes now. "I don't want to slip out of them when I need to be tied down."

"No. Of course not." Chris' nostrils flared as he pulled the buckle tighter. "Like this?"

"Depends on what you want to attach them too," Tom said, his voice like silk. "They're so well padded, Chris, it feels really good against my skin."

"Fuck," it escaped Chris. He quickly attached the second cuff and pulled the buckle closed.

"Yeah." Their eyes met. "A lovely gift, Chris. Thank you."

Chris licked his lips. "There are two more," he said. He didn't know what was more arousing, the intense expression in Tom's eyes or the cuffs actually on him. "Can you move okay with these?"

Tom gave him a little smile. "Yeah," he said. "Though I think if I pull on them, they're going to slip up and keep my wrists from... hmpf." Chris couldn't wait, he'd pulled him into an intense kiss by the back of his neck, and Tom was bracing himself against his knees.

"God, you drive me crazy," Chris panted into Tom's mouth.

"Good." Tom chuckled softly.

"The sight of these on you... oh my god," Chris admitted. He let his hands run down Tom's back and grasped the hem of his shirt, then unceremoniously pulled it over Tom's head. He groaned. "Better."

"Heh heh heh, yeah?" Tom was charmed.

"Take mine off," Chris urged. "Quickly."

As soon as Tom had done so, Chris crawled closer on all fours, tipping Tom over until he was sprawled on his back, and straddled his legs. He leaned forward, kissing him, feeling the restraints brush against the sides of his face when Tom let his hands slip into his hair. The arousal was so intense, it made him feel as if his hair was standing on end. He brought his hips down and brushed his cock against Tom's, and both men cried out at the contact.

"Fuck," Tom swore softly. "I'm not going to last long."

Chris didn't answer, shifting to tongue Tom's clavicle, instead, kissing wetly down his sternum, then moving to suck in one of his perky nipples, doing everything possible to bathe Tom in his desire.

"Chris!" Tom moaned. "Oh my god."

Chris still couldn't speak; the sensation of his skin against Tom's, his fingers in his hair, the feeling of his hard nipple against his tongue, it all served to make him completely, utterly speechless. He felt the restraints brush against the sensitive skin of his stomach as Tom swiftly undid his belt, then the button and zipper, and pushed his jeans down his hips, freeing his leaking cock. Tom seemed to understand that he was too incoherent to do anything about his own trousers, so he undressed quickly, and then pulled Chris' jeans off all the way.

Chris was panting heavily, suddenly finding himself on his back with Tom suspended over him, leaning in, kissing him, his hands on both sides of his face. "I want to..." he croaked. "Tom, can you touch me? Let me watch you work me with those restraints on... god..."

Tom gave him a charmed smile. "Yeah," he said, lying down, pressed against Chris' side. "What is it, Chris?" he asked, letting his fingertips run along Chris' length, making him shudder in reaction. "I get the feeling this was kind of..." he grasped Chris' cock gently in his fist and let his thumb run over the head. "… kind of a present for both of us, huh?" He chuckled warmly.

"Guh," Chris exhaled and had to laugh. "But god... Tom... look at that..."

They both watched Tom's cuff-adorned hand slowly begin to work Chris' cock.

"Died and gone to heaven," Chris groaned. "Oh my god."

"Definitely a gift for you," Tom concluded, hardly capable of holding back a laugh.

"I should've gotten you a collar, too," Chris mock threatened, but he had to laugh, as well. "I think you could do with some discipline."

"Oh yeah?" Tom waggled his brows at him. "Get comfortable, love," he murmured. "Support your back."

"Hm?"

"Must I do everything for you tonight?" But it was said gently, and Tom quickly helped to get Chris propped up against the headboard.

"Unwrap the big present," Chris said, completely at ease with letting Tom having his way with him. 

Tom did so, the sight of his leather-clad wrists still sending waves of arousal through Chris. Tom made short work of the wrapping paper and held two long, studded leather straps in his hand. "What's this, honey?" he asked, coming to sit smoothed against Chris side.

"Well, we need to tie you down with something," Chris explained softly, wrapping his arm around his lover's shoulder and kissing his brow. The leather straps came to lie on his stomach, but Tom's hand casually slipped lower to touch him again, and he raised his hip into the caress, moaning softly. "It's... it's actually two... connectors," he worked out against his growing arousal. "They work a little like... hmm... that's good... like a dog leash. There's a number of D-rings and a snap on each end. One goes on your cuff... oh god, Tom... and connects to a.. um... ring... okay, forget it." He settled down against the pillows in his back, and his left hand softly caressed Tom's neck as he watched Tom work his cock with his lids half closed with pleasure. But Tom wasn't quite finished yet. He took one leather strap and very gently wrapped it around Chris' thigh, snapping it closed, then retrieved the second. The white leather on its red padding, with the rings and studs attached, were an incredibly arousing sight. Tom looked him in the eyes when he slipped lower and attached the second pair of snaps to the opposing strap, effectively tying Chris' legs to each other.

"Yes," Chris sighed, straining a little to see if they would hold. They were. "Oh god, Tom."

He felt Tom nudge between his legs, and tried to open them, but the restraints were tight, heightening his arousal as Tom gently pulled his testicles forward and laid them out on top of his bound legs. He licked and kissed at them, pulling at the skin with his lips, his hand slowly increasing the pace on Chris' engorged cock.

"I shouldn't say this," Tom breathed. "But god I see so many opportunities for this when you come between my legs."

"Oh god, yes." It was dizzying enough as it was, but tightening the space without having Tom having to strain so much definitely had potential. "Not what I bought it for, but... oh... Tom."

Tom had shifted, and made absolutely sure that Chris could see his cuff-adorned wrist working at the base of his cock while Tom's lips closed around the head. It was hot, intimate, tight, as Tom created some intense suction with his lips and tongue.

Tom looked at him, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. He let go for a moment, his hand keeping up a slow pump as he shifted upwards, towering over Chris on all fours.

"Honey," he said in a low voice. "You know how we talked about me receiving you?"

"Yeah." Chris gave him a lopsided smile.

"I won't be able to talk with my lips wrapped around you," Tom said intimately, sending shivers down Chris' spine. "But I want you to know that I desire nothing so much than you coming down my throat."

"God, Tom." His cock jumped in Tom's fist.

"Do you understand me, love? I want you to fill me up, and I want you to fill me up good."

" _Tom_." Chris moaned.

"I want every last drop you have to give," Tom said. "Every single one." He kissed him, deeply. Chris' fingernails were digging into Tom's shoulders painfully. Tom hissed in reaction, a very pleased sound. "You tell me how you want me," Tom said. "How fast, how hard. You dish it out, I will take it."

"With love," Chris said, tracing his fingertips along Tom's jaw. "Let me fill you with love, honey."

"Yeah." Tom smiled, and slowly kissed his way down Chris' body until he was low enough to softly lick a bead of pre-come clean out of Chris' slit, causing his hips to snap upwards. He placed a series of wet kisses around the head, and then attached his lips to where his foreskin was attached, sucking softly until Chris couldn't take it any more.

Pulling on Tom's hair, he moaned. "Take me in, Tom, please." It was good, it was so good. He moved upwards, into Tom's mouth, eager for more sensation, suddenly glad that Tom had given him card blanche to seek his pleasure, however it may come. And boy did it come, Tom's mouth hot and wet around his cock, closing him in tightly, while his hand worked the base. Chris let his hands run through Tom's short hair, pulling at it when the sensation became too much to bear, holding him in place as he pushed upward against the back of Tom's throat. He could see that Tom was struggling, and was ready to pull back when Tom changed the angle of his head, and he could suddenly move forward.

Intellectually, he realized what Tom had just done, and wanted to pull back so he wouldn't cause Tom distress, but Tom looked at him, working his throat around Chris cock, begging him not to pull out.

"Oh honey..."

Tom entwined his fingers with his own and pulled pleadingly at his hand, begging him to continue.

"Oh... okay. Be... be careful, Tom... tug my hand when you need to breathe... oh my fucking god." He pushed upwards, and sank all the way down Tom's throat until Tom's lips stretched around the base of his cock. The sight alone was bad enough, but the sensation was indescribable, all tight, hot, wet, and then Tom swallowed around him and Chris' hips shot off the bed in reaction. "If you... fucking... milk me like that," he whined, "dammit, it's gonna be over soon."

He could see Tom smile at him and he felt himself slip out a bit, and Tom breathed a few times before he tugged his hand again and nodded.

They worked out a rhythm; Chris moving in to the hilt, getting more comfortable with it by the moment as he could clearly see how proud Tom was to be able to take him, how eagerly he received him. Chris became more confident, guiding him by the hand around the back of his head, seriously moving into him, making sure he could breathe inbetween, then moving in once more. He realized that the restraints around his thighs hindered the power of his movements somewhat because he couldn't spread his legs. It meant that he didn't have to be afraid to hurt Tom if he went full out, and that was incredibly freeing.

"You take me so well, Tom, oh my god, thank you." He pushed in again, the head of his cock rubbing against the back of Tom's throat. "Tom, touch yourself, let me see you touch yourself... oh... yeah... like that... that fucking cuff... you drive me crazy, Tom... yeah... oh... take me deep, honey... like that... milk me... Tom... fuck... harder... oh my god." Chris' grip around Tom's neck tightened and he pushed himself down Tom's throat, and then Tom started to fucking _hum_ around him. The vibration completely set him off, and he thrust into Tom's mouth once, twice and a third time, his balls tightening, and then spilling down his lover's throat. He didn't let him go, watched him swallow his seed, felt his throat work around his cock. "Yessss," Chris moaned. "Yes. Oh god, Tom. Milk me... dry... god... oh god." It felt so good to be so connected, to have his cock so tightly ensconced in Tom. Slowly, his orgasm ebbed off, and Tom kept him in his mouth until he pushed him away, panting and laughing a little madly.

"Oh my god, Tom." He caressed his face and smiled when Tom blinked fondly at him. "Wow."

Tom rested his head on Chris' stomach, and Chris ran his fingers through his hair and down his neck and shoulders while he caught his breath. A pleasant languor spread through him, and he contemplated just how lucky he really was to be with such an incredible lover.

"Are you..." Tom cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Chris laughed. "Wow, Tom."

Tom smiled and moved up, leaning over Chris. "Did you like it?" he asked.

"Very." Chris wrapped a hand around his neck and kissed him. "That was amazing."

"Happy anniversary, Chris?" Tom said, his eyes twinkling merrily at him.

"Happy anniversary indeed," Chris said, letting his hand run down Tom's torso. "You're the gift that keeps on giving."

"I like that." Tom kissed him gently, taking his time with him until Chris' whole body hummed with wanting to be near him. "I'm not finished with you," Tom whispered into his ear.

"You're not finished," Chris smiled, his hand catching Tom's still very hard cock. "I can feel that."

Tom moved into the caress with a languid thrust. "I want to come between your legs," he confided. "I want to know if you're as tight as I think you are with those restraints around your legs."

"Uh-huh." Chris raised an amused brow at him. "So they do things to you, too, huh?"

Tom ducked his head and smiled. "Yeah," he admitted easily.

"Do you want to tie me up, too?" Chris asked, his heart beating a little faster.

Tom chuckled warmly. "No," he said. "I like it when you touch me while we make love," he said, and kissed Chris. "Besides, these are mine, and I'm not sharing."

"Is that so." Chris easily went with the rhythm of teasing.

"Yeah, I like it when you tie me up," Tom said, his cock moving through Chris' fist. "And have your way with me."

"Ooooh."

"And bend me to your pleasure." Tom kissed him again, the movement of his hips more insistent. "But right now; all I want to do is paint you with my come." He easily caught Chris' lips when he arched into his body. "Are you ready, Chris?"

"Yes," Chris croaked. He was a little surprised when Tom sat up, but realized why a moment later when Tom presented him with a bottle of lube.

"I'd like you to get me ready," Tom said, crouching over him once more. "And then get yourself ready."

Chris gave him an admiring look. He squirted some lube in his hand, then put the bottle aside and pulled Tom's foreskin down. He spread the lube by stroking his hand up and down Tom's cock repeatedly, pleased when he saw Tom's eyes close with pleasure.

"Am I doing it right?" he asked.

"A little tighter," Tom strained.

"Uh-huh." Chris fitted himself to his lover's body and softly kissed the column of his neck as his hand worked. "I think we need more."

"Hmmmm." Tom hummed.

Chris got himself another dollop and applied himself to the task at hand. He felt his own body react to what he was doing; the intimacy and closeness and the soft sounds of arousal Tom made. This night was going nothing like he had planned, and he loved every second of it.

"Now you," Tom finally croaked.

"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked, not quite sure what Tom was asking.

"Your... passage," Tom said, and then shivered. "Between your legs. Please... get yourself ready for me?"

It was one of the few times that Tom was having difficulty articulating himself, which told Chris just how arousing this was for him. When they were doing this, they usually prepped each other, using touching each other as foreplay, but then they usually had their legs spread. This was very different. Now the passage between Chris' legs was tight and not readily accessible. Chris found himself blushing fiercely and feeling very exposed all of a sudden. He licked his lips and decisively grabbed the bottle of lube again, squirting some on his fingertips. He had to lift his balls for better access, and heard Tom's sharp intake of breath when he slipped his fingers between his legs.

"Oh my god," Tom said. "Oh my god, Chris."

Chris closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation of touching himself, making sure his perineum was well lubricated, and adding another dollop when he felt it wasn't. "You need to check," he finally murmured. "If it holds up to what you have in mind."

Tom's pupils were completely blown with arousal, his nostrils flaring when he slipped his long, sensitive fingers into the passage between Chris' thighs. 

Chris' hips lifted off the bed at the intimacy of his touch, straining into Tom, and he was so thankful that Tom immediately gave in to his arousal and straddled his legs. He leaned over Chris, kissing him reverently as he transferred one of the pillows to elevate Chris' pelvis, and then reached down and guided the tip of his cock between Chris' legs and pushed in all the way with a long groan.

"Have I told you yet," Tom whispered intimately into Chris' ear. "How much I absolutely adore your presents?"

Chris laughed helplessly, his fingertips tracing down Tom's back as Tom fastened his lips to his neck. "Me, too," he admitted, moving his pelvis up.

Tom groaned and thrust into him, his hand traveling down and grabbing Chris' ass.

Tom didn't usually lose control like this, so Chris had no qualms about fanning the fire. "Am I nice and tight for you?" he murmured, enjoying very much Tom's answering moan and thrust. "Yeah? Do you like taking me like that?"

"Ooooh." The grip on his ass tightened as Tom moved into him decisively. "Yesss."

Tom's big cock created some really delicious friction between Chris' legs, and he strained into his lover. "Let me feel you, Tom," he groaned. "Harder."

Tom's back arched as he moved into him, his hips snapping forward in a decisive beat.

"Oh god, yes." Chris bit his lower lip and laughed. "Tom, harder, dammit, take me good."

The grip on his ass was almost painful now, but he was rewarded with the sight of Tom's face in complete rapture, his slim yet muscular body tight as a bowstring on top of him as Tom worked himself into full arousal.

But it wasn't enough to overcome the threshold his earlier orgasm had set, so he motioned Tom to slow down.

"Tom, honey, hand me that vibrator," Chris panted.

"Hm?" Tom was sweating and out of breath.

"The vibrator from earlier," Chris said. "I want to come with you, but I need a little bit more stimulation because I just did."

"Oh! Okay." As always, Tom was immediately game to try something new. "Do I need to pull out?"

"I'm afraid so," Chris said. "Just for a moment, though." He accepted the vibrator and turned it on by pressing the button at the bottom. "Ah, yes." He smiled at the gentle vibration. "Nice."

"I don't like sharing you," Tom said, his brow furrowed. "With this."

"Can I show you what I have in mind?" Chris asked, transferring a bit of lube on the vibrator. "And if you don't like it, we'll just put it away."

"Well, okay." But he remained jealously skeptical.

"You need to help me," Chris said, turning on this side. "Can you insert this between my legs from behind. I don't want the battery end on top, it could hurt you." He hissed sharply at the sensation when Tom pressed the toy against him. "Yeaaahhh," he sighed. "Turn it so the curved end is against me." He felt the little protrusion press against his perineum as Tom pushed it forward. "Okay, stop." He licked his lips. The curve was now lodged directly behind his balls, andit felt as if the vibration traveled along every single one of his nerve endings at once. "Oh... yeah... wow... nice." He felt Tom adjust the toy a little tighter upwards, and turned him on his back again.

"Does that feel good?" Tom asked, giving his cock a gentle stroke.

"Yeah... oh... pretty much," Chris hissed. "Please don't touch my cock, you sucked it into submission, it's done."

"Oh." Tom chuckled softly. "I get the problem now."

"Come join us," Chris said, reeling him in. "I must be even tighter now."

Tom reached for the lube first, making sure both he and Chris' entrance were well lubricated. Chris had a really hard time concentrating, the vibrator creating some very pleasant sensations along his perineum and the base of his cock, but then Tom carefully inserted himself and pushed in, pressing the toy's curved head dead center against Chris' prostrate. Chris' mouth stood open, but no sound came out, the friction of Tom moving in and out of him slowly just the top note on the profound arousal created by the vibrating pressure on his sweet spot.

He hardly noticed that Tom wrapped his arms and legs around him and turned them so he was lying on his back, and Chris lay on top. The pace had changed, Tom was moving languidly into him, sighing softly as his hands cupped Chris' ass in counterpoint.

"That is so. Good," he moaned. "Jesus, you're tight like this, Chris."

"Glad to be of service," Chris mumbled. His hands on both sides of Tom's head, he was free to move into each thrust. "Please don't mind me if I'm starting to drool," he mumbled. "Oh my god, that feels so fantastic. You have such a great cock, Tom."

"Glad you like it." Tom pulled him into a kiss, and the thrust of his hips became more insistent. "God, I need to come, Chris."

"Hm, yes." Chris contracted his thighs. "Coming is good, love."

"Give you," he panted. "All I have."

"Yes." Chris' own cock was pressed and moved against Tom's stomach with each thrust, creating just the right amount of unspecific pressure and friction to set off the deep stimulation of his prostrate. "Take me deep".

Tom's hands curled around his shoulders as he moved into him, the beat of his hips speeding up, getting him ready. Chris knew that his orgasm was immanent when Tom slowed down to deep, penetrating strokes again.

"Come for me," he urged. "Tom, please. Come for.. ah... _yes_." He felt his lover's cock pulse between his legs, and the resulting wetness coat his skin. "That can't be all, honey, I know you have... oh..." Like a gentle wave, he felt his own orgasm pull his seed up from his balls and spill onto Tom's stomach. "God, give me more, my love. I need more... please." He pulled and kissed Tom through his orgasm, relishing every pulse of his cock, testament to how Tom felt about him, how he felt about Tom. "I love you so much." He kissed him gently as the intensity wound down.

"Love you, too." Tom was gentle and pliant in the aftermath, smiling lazily at him. "But that vibrator is driving me crazy now."

"If I pull it you'll slip out," Chris said.

"Turn it off." Tom reached around him and searched between his legs, and a moment later, the vibration stopped. "There."

Chris smiled, completely content with resting with his lover, their foreheads pressed together, Tom's semen gliding down his skin.

"That was something," Tom finally said, his hand stroking through Chris' hair.

"Yeah." Chris kissed him gently. "Thank you for playing with me."

"Always." Tom sighed contentedly. "Are you happy with how our anniversary is going?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Uh-huh." Chris felt sated, happy, content. "The best." He smiled. "You?"

Tom nodded. "Great presents, awesome lovemaking," he said. "It can't get much better than that, can it?"

"Especially because I bought those presents for you, and now it turned out they were kind of for both of us, huh?" Chris smiled, and then yawned. "Oh god. The caffeine is finally wearing off."

"You had a long day." Tom kissed his forehead. "And another one ahead of you."

"Don't remind me," Chris mewled. "As far as I'm concerned, this night is going to last forever and tomorrow never comes."

"Heh heh."

Chris felt Tom slip out after all and sighed.

"Do you want me to clean you up, honey?" Tom asked.

"That would be nice."

"You need to let me get up, then, hm?" Tom kissed him one last time and gently lowered him to the bed.

Chris loved the post-coital pampering he received from Tom and settled down expectantly. He waited for his lover to return from the bathroom, and then watched him carefully remove the leather straps around his thighs. They had left a bit of a mark, but not too badly. Tom retrieved the vibrator and cleaned it with a hygienic wipe, then set upon Chris' favorite part, cleaning him with a warm washcloth.

"You're enjoying that, aren't you?" Tom said fondly.

"Uh-huh." Chris sighed contentedly. "It's nice."

"I like doing it, too." Tom peppered his gentle washing with soft kisses to Chris' abdomen and thighs.

"I feel so appreciated," Chris said.

"That's the idea." Tom smiled at him and gave him a last fond kiss just below his navel. "Done?"

"I feel clean," Chris said.

"Good." Tom ran a soft towel between his legs and over his stomach. He set it aside, as well as the connector straps and the vibrator, cleaning up quickly after himself. "Ready to go to sleep?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." Chris reached for the duvet in his back and swung it over himself, then held it open for Tom. "Come in?"

"Always." Tom turned off the light and slipped into Chris' arms. They shifted around a little until they had settled into a comfortable position.

"You're still wearing your cuffs," Chris remarked after a moment of contented cuddling.

"Uh-huh." Tom was clearly tired, as well. "Not taking them off."

"No?"

"No." Tom burrowed into his shoulder. "They're mine."

It made Chris smile. "Okay then, honey. Sweet dreams." 

Chris thought of the last, yet unwrapped present and smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris faces some uncomfortable truths about himself.

India came at five o’clock in the morning. Chris had expected something like it, so he wasn’t too surprised, but Tom gave an unwilling mewl when he tried to extract himself from their embrace.

“She’s probably just wet,” Chris whispered, kissing his temple. “I’m going to change her and give her another bottle.”

“Meh.” Tom’s arms contracted around him and he burrowed his head against Chris’ shoulder.

Chris chuckled tiredly. “I know. I’ll make it quick.”

“Hm.” Tom presented his lips to be kissed. “Do you need help?”

“I need you to still be here when I’m back,” Chris murmured. “But now I really have to get up before she starts crying in earnest.”

“Okay.” Tom gave a sigh, but let him go reluctantly.

“I love you.” Chris kissed him again before he slid out of his embrace.

He quickly dressed in a dressing gown and slippers against the morning’s chill. Tom had the habit of turning down the heat at night, but they’d have to change that with India in the house. Shivering, he hurried up the stairs – night lights would also be a good idea, he decided – and opened the door to the nursery.

“Hey little girl, what’s the matter?” India’s calling cry changed pitch to an actual complaint. Chris was by her crib in three steps and peeled her out of her sleeping bag. “It’s okay, baby girl, I’m right here.” He sniffed at her bottom and drew a face. “That explains it,” he decided. “I’d cry, too, you poor thing.”

He quickly got her to the changing table and out of her spectacularly stinky nappy. Fortunately, she was still rather sleepy and thus the squirming wasn’t too bad. He used a multitude of wipes and kissed India’s belly when he was done, and she gurgled at him, pleased at being dry and loved.

And in that moment, it hit him for the first time that India was really here, that his little daughter, whom he had been ready to give up to be with Tom, was actually here, in his arms, under his roof, with him. The two realities that had felt so incongruent the night before suddenly came together, and the picture that they painted left him in a horrible light.

India waved at him, babbling, expecting cuddles. He didn't know if she realized that she'd been away for a whole two weeks. She had no idea that something was wrong – and maybe she did. Certainly, Elsa must have been distraught, India's grandparents had been upset about what he'd done. The whole of the last two weeks must have been confusing for India. Maybe she wouldn't remember it in the future, Chris didn't know. But he knew that didn't mean it didn't have an impact on her.

He would certainly never tell her that he'd almost let her go over Tom.

She looked at him, gnawing on her fist and twisting her little body, unsure with him because he didn't continue like she expected him to.

He smiled sadly and leaned over her, tickling her with his beard, making her squirm and giggle.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out. Maybe she wouldn't remember, but he would. He kissed her and cradled her between his forearms, rubbing their noses together. "Daddy will not let you go again, okay, India? I'm always going to be here when you need me, no matter what. I promise."

She gave a little call and squirmed, unsettled by his unusually somber behavior.

"You're right, sweetie, let's get you ready. Are you hungry, little sparrow? Hm?" He gave her a final kiss on her soft belly and reached for a fresh nappy. "Let's get you ready for that bottle, baby girl."

 

* * *

 

It was still quiet downstairs, but the kitchen was softly lit. When Chris came in with India on his arm, he saw that Tom had already started the kettle. He'd thrown on some jogging bottoms and a warm shirt and looked up when they came in.

"Hey you two," he said softly. "Good morning, India."

She shook her head and hid her face against Chris' shoulder bashfully.

"Give her a moment," Chris said. "She isn't quite awake yet."

"Tea or coffee?" Tom asked. "With the bottle, I mean?"

"Are we up?" Chris sat down by the table and cradled his daughter, rocking her.

"I don't know, are we?" Tom asked quizzically. "You left the baby phone on, honey."

"Oh." So Tom had heard everything. "Depends on if she goes back to sleep, really," Chris said.

"What are the chances?"

Chris shrugged. "Could be better."

"Coffee it is." Tom nodded and started to fill the coffee maker's water tank.

Chris watched him, so many emotions chasing each other in his head and heart. They'd been dancing in here last night, and he was so in love with that man. He couldn't find it in his heart to even wish that the last two weeks had played out any differently, just that he had made better choices much, much sooner. The sinking feeling in his chest, the feeling that he was drowning from some unspoken sorrow, needed to find a different outlet than regretting the last two weeks, regretting the choices that he had made. There was nothing there that he regretted, but it left him at a loss with how to deal with what was going on now.

He cuddled his sleepy daughter to his chest and let her play with his fingers, lost in thought.

Chris only snapped out of it when Tom placed their coffee mugs on the table. "Bottle should be done in a moment," he said. "Honey, why don't you take India to the recliner and I'll be with you two as soon as the bottle is done, huh?"

Chris' heart cramped in his chest. "I don't want to be alone right now," he admitted. "We'll wait for you." He hadn't felt that desolate in a while.

"Okay." Tom just nodded. "I'll be right there."

Chris watched Tom cross back over to the stove. "I think I could really use a hug," he admitted. "Not that I feel I've earned it or anything."

"One hug coming right up," Tom said. He shook the bottle to mix the hot water with the formula, holding the nipple closed with his fingers. "I promise."

"You already look like an expert," Chris said, admiring Tom's shaking technique.

Tom raised a brow at him as he dipped the bottle and placed a drop on the inside of his wrist to test its temperature. He grimaced. "A little too hot." He placed the bottle in a cold water bath and joined Chris and India on the bench. Tom wrapped his arm around Chris, and Chris finally exhaled as he leaned against his lover.

"It'll be okay, Chris," Tom soothed, kissing his temple. "Honestly. I promise it'll be okay."

"I don't know if I can forgive myself," Chris said. "Ever."

"Yes, you can," Tom quietly insisted. "You're no use to her, feeling guilty."

Chris gave him a look. "I can't believe... what I've almost done," he said tonelessly. "Giving her up." He licked his lips. "I need to figure out what kind of man I really am, Tom. I'm afraid... of what I might find."

Tom nodded. "I know."

Chris didn't know if he should be relieved or desperate over the fact that Tom knew what he was talking about. "Don't leave me alone with this," he said tonelessly. "Please."

"I won't, honey. I promise." Tom rubbed his shoulder, pulling him closer. "If you need me, I'll be there." He kissed his temple again and then got up to check on the bottle, shaking and testing its contents once more and then declaring it drinkable for India.

Chris took the bottle and his baby, Tom the two mugs of coffee. After a bit of a shuffle, they settled down together in the living room – Tom seated on the recliner against the headboard, Chris leaned against his chest with India in his lap.

India was hungry, but also still fairly sleepy. She cuddled into her father's arm and soulfully sucked at her bottle as she rested her eyes on his face.

"Can you believe," Chris said. "That when they look at us like that, they think we have it all figured out?" He stroked his daughter's cheek with his finger and she sucked a little harder. "She thinks I know what's what."

"You got her when she cried. She was uncomfortable and now she isn't. She’s hungry and you're feeding her. She needed company and you're there for her." Tom said quietly. "In her book, you're doing pretty excellent, really."

"I almost gave her up," Chris said tonelessly. "Then what."

"But you didn't," Tom pointed out.

"Because of you."

"You almost gave her up because of me. Then you didn't, because of me. I think India and I are about even," Tom said, but Chris heard the sharp note in his voice. It was sometimes easy to forget that Tom was fighting his own demons about his role in the whole affair. "Chris, I can't tell you to forget it; I think you need to work this out with yourself to get closure. But when it comes to India, just be the best Dad to her that you can be."

"Was that enough for you?" Chris asked, looking over his shoulder at Tom. "With your Dad, I mean?" It was a loaded question, he knew.

"My Dad has been making some questionable choices in his life," Tom said. "From my point of view anyway. But I'm beginning to realize that I was a child, and not prone to every reason he had to make the decisions he did."

"I still think he did you wrong," Chris said decisively.

"Is this about me and my Dad?" Tom asked softly. "Or about something else?"

"It's about Dads who leave their kids to fend for themselves," Chris said bitterly.

"But you aren't. You're holding India right now," Tom said. "And this afternoon, you're going to see her mother for the first of many sessions in which you're going to discuss how to make India's life as wonderful as possible under the circumstances."

"Under the circumstances."

"Yes."

Chris felt India squirm in his arm. She was looking distressed, the tightly arguing voices were scaring her. "I'm sorry, sweetie," he soothed. "It's okay. We're not angry with you, India." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, and she gradually responded and took the nipple again.

"She loves you," Tom said quietly, and Chris felt him rub his shoulder in comfort. "And all she wants is for you to love her back."

Chris didn't feel like he had earned it, but he made the conscious effort to lean back against Tom's reassuring warmth. "Sometimes it feels as if it's about time I get the punishment I deserve," Chris said.

He felt Tom nod against his ear. "I get that, love," he said. "I really do. But what other options do we have?" He rubbed his arm. "And if I can make one observation? The few times that I've seen you get really angry and frustrated, like right now? It's when you realize you've hurt someone very much, and you hate yourself for it."

Chris furrowed his brow. "So?"

"There are enough people out there who wouldn't even notice and would blatantly blunder on. I'm very glad you're not one of those people."

Chris sighed. "Me, too," he admitted quietly. He took a deep breath and then looked over his shoulder at Tom. "Thank you," he said.

"Uh-huh." Tom dipped his head and kissed him gently.

"In front of the baby, too." Chris couldn't help smiling.

"Oh." Tom chuckled, his scruff scratching against Chris' beard. "Nicely played, Hemsworth."

Chris kissed him once more for good measure, very glad that they'd crossed that hurdle. India mewled, and he returned his attention to his daughter. "Ah, look who's finished," he said, putting the bottle aside. "Hey baby, are you done, hm?"

India yawned and waved her fists.

"She still looks pretty tired, doesn't she?"

"Well, we can try," Chris said, rocking her as he was tapping her back. "We certainly haven't had enough sleep. How long has it been, five hours tops?"

"More like four and a half. "Tom yawned, as well.

"Hey," Chris said. "Can you prop us up with you knee?"

Tom looked at him quizzically, then bent his knee, and Chris shifted around until he fit into it.

"Thanks."

"We haven't done it this way around yet," Tom said. Chris had his daughter in his right arm and Tom offered her a finger to hold, which she took, looking at him with big eyes. "You little thing," Tom said gently. "You are so tired, you you can hardly keep your eyes open, India. It's okay, Daddy is here and he isn't going anywhere."

"And neither is Tom," Chris said, leaning into him.

"And neither is Tom," he acknowledged, his arm squeezing around Chris' middle.

Chris exhaled, the earlier tension finally washing off him.

* * *

 

Tom brought India to bed, and Chris slipped off to the bathroom to get himself ready. He was joining Tom in the bedroom a few moments later, shivering with anticipation. He couldn’t get out of his dressing gown fast enough; the first contact of his skin on Tom’s such a relief.

Tom laid him out on the bed and kissed every part of him, starting with his brow and ending with his toes.

"There are so many firsts with you," Chris murmured when Tom came up for air, taut against him like a bow string, breathless, gorgeous, beautiful. "First kiss with a man, first time making love with a man. First time someone takes me hard enough for me to feel I don't have to hold back." He arched into Tom, and they both moaned, their bodies straining against each other. "First time being breached, first time someone comes inside me, first time I have someone's seed inside me. Yours. You. Only you." Their lips hardly touched but they drank each other's breaths. Chris' hands danced over Tom's bunching and bulging ass. "First time someone takes me completely apart. First time I forget who I am." He hissed when Tom lifted his leg to lay it over his hip. He felt Tom probe him with his fingers and threw his head back in reaction. Tom immediately latched on to his neck, his lubed fingers reaching deep inside of Chris. "Now, Tom," he whimpered, receiving Tom's cock against him like a benediction. "Fill me."

Tom pushed into him in one long, fluid motion, pressing, pushing until Chris' tailbone was in Tom's lap and Chris' head hit the headboard. There was no such thing as too deep. If Tom could, he would split him in half to be as close as possible.

"Have me," Chris arched into him, his heels digging into Tom's ass. "Have me deep."

Tom made a sound he had never heard from him before, and then he took him. It was a thing of beauty, of complete and utter bliss, of Tom straining, scratching, anchoring him with his hands curled around his shoulders while his big cock drove into him like something out of ancient myth. Chris threw his head back and forgot everything he'd ever known, concentrating solely on being so full, on being filled over and over again, of finally feeling something, of being able to finally let go, of surfing that wave of desire, want, sheer and utter lust that Tom poured over him with every relentless, driving thrust.

You could not get used to that size, there was no moment in which this became fully comfortable, but Chris relished just that, relished not caring, not thinking, just feeling... feeling Tom withdraw and then thrust back into him deeply, soulfully, as if he wanted to take him apart piece by piece, loosen every last anchor, every last tether that still held him to any amount of sanity or reasoned thought. He began to laugh under the onslaught of sensations until that laugh became a gasping sob that touched everything that had ever weighed him down.

"Yes," Tom moaned. "So close, Chris. _So close._ "

Chris felt his cock jump as Tom twisted it deep inside of him, and then Tom came in a series of gasps and shivers, his orgasm nearly choking him; he could hardly breathe. Chris flipped them to sit on Tom, using his still pumping cock to stimulate his prostate, and urgently stroked himself to completion, needing to see his own seed spurting all over Tom, marking him, making him absolutely his.

They gasped for breath, shaking, until Tom slipped out of him, releasing a gush of semen. They were too shaken to do anything about it, too busy simply catching their breaths.

Chris finally leaned forward on trembling arms to kiss Tom, felt his tired fingertips caress his back as he let Tom's lower lip slide through his teeth. They kissed, breathing into each other, their lips loose and gentle.

"I am so in love with you," Tom finally whispered. "I have absolutely no words for this."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is unpacking his last anniversary present. Chris gets a call from a family member.

Tom was burning with the need for a good run, and after keeping him in bed with nothing but a light touch and needy kisses for more than ten minutes, Chris laughed and finally let him go.

“Are you going to be all right?” Tom asked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Chris assured him. “Oh, which reminds me, you haven’t unwrapped your last present.” It was nearing eight thirty and he could hear India contentedly talking to herself upstairs.

“Is it kinky again?” Tom asked. “Are you trying to keep me in bed longer?”

“If I wanted to do that, I’d have my ways,” Chris alluded and waggled his brows. “No, open it, please.”

It took them a moment to find it in the heap of clothes strewn around the bed. It was remarkable what a mess two men could make if they were determined to get one another out of their clothes as quickly as possible.

Tom sat down at the edge of the mattress and Chris sat leaned against his shoulder. “I know you hardly ever wear jewelery,” he said casually as Tom turned the small present in his hands and then started to unwrap it. “But I couldn’t resist.”

Tom gave him a quick look and then held the present in his hand: A narrow bracelet, made from the same white leather, red thread and red padding that his restraints were made from. The artisan had succeeded in making the leather look understatedly elegant this time. If worn, only Tom and Chris would know what other purposes this bracelet’s twins were intended for.

“Put it on,” Chris urged.

“You do it,” Tom said, and gave Chris a look that he couldn’t fully decipher.

Chris shifted and did so, kissing the inside of Tom’s wrist as he had done with the restraints, and then carefully closed the clasp. They both sat there when they were finished, admiring the carefully tooled leather; the simple beauty that accentuated the breadth of Tom’s wrist.

“Not good?” Chris asked.

“Is there one for you, too?” Tom asked.

 _Oh._ “No.”

“Why not?”

Chris sighed. “You know why.”

“Chris, it’s not like I don’t appreciate it. I do. It’s beautiful. It’s a bit wicked, too. I love it.” He quickly kissed Chris on the mouth. “But I want you to have one, as well. Is there some way you could order another?”

“We could never wear it at the same time,” Chris pointed out. “People would notice.”

“Really? When we’re going out together, or visiting with family, or hanging out with Luke and Steve?” Tom asked poignantly. “ _Never_?”

Chris squirmed.

Tom let a finger run over the soft leather. “Chris, you’ve basically just marked me as being tied to you," he said. "And I want that, too.” He looked at him openly, his eyes a shade of very light blue. “Because I’m not letting you walk away any more. Not without a fight.”

“Okay,” Chris said softly. “I get it.” Tom’s possessive attitude felt surprisingly good.

“Yeah?” Tom tried to look stern, but Chris could see a smile lurking just behind it. “Just so there is no misunderstanding, you’re going to get another one, one that fits you?”

“I will.” He couldn’t help smiling.

“Good.” Tom kissed him softly. “Thank you, Chris. It’s a beautiful gift and I really appreciate the thought behind it.”

“Even if it’s basically a wink-wink, nudge-nudge about your tendency to enjoy being tied up a little too much?” Chris teased.

"Not tied up per se," Tom said. "Tied up by _you._ There's a difference."

"Is that why you kept them on last night?" Chris asked softly.

"Yeah." Tom gave him goofy smile. "Besides, it really turned you on."

"That it did." They kissed again, and Chris pulled his lover a little closer. "Tom, I'm.... going to let Elsa take India home with her tonight," he said. "We haven't talked about what to do after counseling, who is going to take her, but I need another day just with you."

"Chris..."

"I really do." Chris sighed. "I want to make love with you right now, or go run with you, and definitely don't want to go to counseling and you go to some function without me. I need...," he shook his head with frustration, "I need you to myself a little longer, before India is here for good."

Tom studied his face, his fingertips were tracing his jaw. "This has nothing to do with last night, does it?" he asked. "About what I said..."

"Tom, you got me out of my funk this morning," Chris said forcefully. "If you ever wondered about how it will all fit together, you've done your first big step by being the person who straightens me out when I doubt. India definitely needs you just for shaking sense into her Dad every now and then, besides making him stupidly happy."

"Oh. I hadn't considered that."

"There." Chris kissed him. "But I've hardly seen you all week because of the late nights and I very selfishly want you just to myself tomorrow before it's going to be really hard to have that."

Tom didn't say anything. He just pushed Chris on his back and joined him in bed again, and they kissed and touched for a while, very slowly and appreciatively. Chris felt Tom's hand stroke down his stomach towards his growing erection and he whimpered into the kiss, very ready for Tom's touch.

And then India's content babbling turned into mewling, and shortly after, into a discontent cry for company and entertainment, and they parted, breathing heavily.

"That's what I meant," Chris said softly, grasping Tom's neck. "And I haven't had my fill of you yet."

Tom growled under his breath. "I know what you mean." He kissed him. "But I can't be jealous of a little girl who needs you. Of her mother, yes. Of India, no."

"We're pretty lucky, India and I," Chris said.

"And she always takes naps, right?" There was a hopeful note in Tom's voice.

"Yes." Chris grinned. "There's definitely that."

  
  


* * *

  
  


With Tom out running, Chris got India ready, taking his time with her to make her giggle and squeal as much as he was able to. She grabbed at his hair until it stood off his head in unruly bushels, and he was out of breath from blowing one raspberry after another on her soft belly.

Father and daughter were in a decidedly good mood when they grabbed some plain porridge and a mashed banana to tide them over until Tom was home for a proper breakfast. They settled on the play rug in the living room, which was bathed in rare November sunshine. After “reading” a picture book together, India squirmed in Chris’ lap and he put her on her belly on the rug. Giving him a determined stare, she was soon trying to push herself up on her arms and kicked excitedly when it worked, just to collapse and start all over again. When that game was getting boring, he put her on her back and introduced some colorful toys to her, which she examined with great precision, “telling” him all about them in great detail.

They were immersed in playing with a honking toy truck when Chris’ phone rang. He checked the ID; it was his older brother, Luke. Sighing, he contemplated for a moment not to pick up, a shot of adrenaline making his spine tingle and his stomach cramp.

"Hey bro," he said when he picked up after all. "What's up?"

"Hi mate!" Luke said cheerfully. "Wanted to hear how you're doing! Actually, Carol wants to know how we're doing Christmas this year; she's worrying we won't get flights if we book too late."

"Christmas," Chris said stupidly. "Haven't really thought about it yet."

"Is Elsa around? Maybe we could hook the two of them up," Luke said.

"Um, no." Chris sat up, suddenly feeling rather sick. "I'm at Tom's."

There was a short silence on the other end. "With India...?" Luke probed. Of course he could hear her talking to herself in the background.

"Um, yeah." And Chris stopped again, completely at a loss for what to say.

"How is the little tyke? Running you ragged, I hope?"

"She's fine." India was currently examining a colorful toy with her mouth, looking very serious about it.

"Bro, are you all right? You don't sound so good," Luke said. "What's going on?"

There was no way but forward, Chris decided. He was the worst liar on the planet, probably only superseded by Tom himself. "Elsa and I split up," he said shortly.

" _What?_ "

"Yeah, two weeks ago," Chris followed up.

"What happened?" Luke was at a complete loss. "Chris, good lord! Why haven't you called, or said anything? Do Mom and Dad know?"

"Yeah." Chris' heart was beating so fast, and he was breaking out in a light sheen of sweat.

"Why haven't they said anything? I don't get it? What's going on?"

"Um..." Chris carded his fingers through his hair, trying to find the words to make this not look as catastrophic as it actually was.

"So you're hanging out at Tom's? I take it he knows?" Luke said.

"Yeah, yeah." He blew out a breath, impatient with the way he bumbled through this. "Listen, Luke, I..."

"Why does your brother from another mother get to know before your own family?" Luke said. "What did you do?"

"He knows because he's the reason I split up with Elsa," Chris exhaled. "And it's entirely my fault, not Elsa's, not Tom's, so no razzing on either one of them."

There was a stupefied silence on the other end. "Run that by me again?"

This was it. "I fell in love with Tom," Chris said. "That’s why I split up with Elsa."

"Chris, you're not fucking gay! What's that nonsense? What's really going on? Were you and Elsa fighting? I don't get it."

"There is nothing else to get," Chris huffed, completely frustrated. "That's it. I already fell in love with Tom when I first met him, it just didn't work out then."

"You are fucking kidding me!"

"No, I'm not. It just came to a head now... it just kind of happened... and now I'm with Tom."

"You don't leave your wife over something like this!" Luke protested. "Chris, man, come to your senses! Whatever made you do it, it can be worked out! We all know how stressful your life is, talk to someone or something for heaven's sakes!"

Chris made an unwilling sound and ducked his head between his knees, one arm wrapped around his neck.

"Chris, say something, dammit!"

"It has nothing to do with Elsa, okay? We were fine!" It sounded so idiotic when he said it like that.

"Then I don't get what the problem is."

"I don't have a problem with Elsa. I fell in love with Tom."

"And you really had to do something about it because...?"

Put like this, Chris felt that whatever he could say would sound completely idiotic and out of his mind. "Forget it," he said. "It is what it is."

Luke must have sensed that his approach wasn't getting him anywhere. "Give me a moment," he said. Chris heard the voices in the background grow quieter, and then a door clap, and it was silent. "In the bedroom now," Luke said. "A bit of peace and quiet. Start over. Where are you?"

"I'm at Tom's, with India," Chris said. "Elsa brought her by last night."

"So she knows."

"Yes."

"Jesus." Luke blew out a breath. "And is she okay with this...?"

"Of course she's not okay with this, she's bloody devastated," Chris snorted. "Dammit, don't be an idiot. I'm doing a damn fine job destroying her life at the moment, so no, she's not good."

"Chris, I just.. I don't get it," Luke said. "You seemed so happy, everything was fine."

"Yeah, it was," Chris said. "But I missed Tom." He didn't know how to put that soul-deep longing for his company into words, how his life was full of color and joy when he was with Tom, and how it was dragging on when he wasn't.

"Are you... are you gay?" Luke asked, then laughed it off. "No way, Chris. No way."

"Would that be that awful?" Chris asked.

"It would mean you've been lying the whole time," Luke said. "To us, to your wife..."

"To myself?" Chris said. "Maybe I was. I don't have the fucking answer, Luke. I don't."

"Then what is it?"

"I fell in love with Tom the first time I met him," Chris reiterated. "And it didn't work out, and now it did."

"And now you're married and you don't just get to walk out on that!" Luke huffed. "Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone, Chris. Then you fix them and move on. I don't get how... why?"

"You're totally right with everything you say," Chris said heatedly. "I have no better reason than that I was fucking miserable without him. I don't know what else to say. You can fight this kind of thing for a lifetime if you have to, I guess. I was just so fucking tired of fighting." He realized how desperate and exhausted he sounded. "Three years was enough."

"So you are gay?"

"If it helps you, sure," Chris said. "Seeing as I'm not intending to leave Tom again, I might as well be."

"I don't get it."

"Welcome to the club." He picked up the toy that India had flung out of her reach and gave it back to his daughter.

"Are you two actually, I mean..." He heard Luke shudder. "Forget I asked."

"Yeah. We are. It's pretty amazing, actually."

"Oh god, now I have to scrub my brain with soap."

Chris smiled sadly.

"I just don't get the two together... you're such a family man... you just married, you have a baby, for crying out loud. You've never looked at another... man?"

"How would you know?" Chris asked.

"Dammit, Chris, don't make it worse!" Luke chided.

"How am I making it worse?" Chris asked. "And no I haven't, if it makes you feel better. It's just the one, but that one knocks me off my feet."

"What if it's just a phase, what if he's getting tired of you soon and then what?"

"Luke, don't be an idiot. If you think I'm a family man, you should hear Tom. I dragged him into this kicking and screaming, he has even more scruples about it than I do, and that should tell you something. Do you think anyone just chooses this on a lark? Do you know what that could mean for our careers? For crying out loud, why would anyone do this if they saw any other way to live?"

"It just comes so suddenly!" Luke said. "It's like I don't even know you, and it's creeping me out!"

"Okay," Chris said tonelessly. "Yeah."

"What?"

"I'm not the one walking away," Chris said. "I'm still me."

"You kept quiet about it for two weeks!" Luke accused him. "And I have no idea for how much longer you would have!"

"Can you imagine, in your wildest dreams," Chris said, "That maybe, just maybe I had to figure it out myself, first? That maybe, I had to work it out with my wife first, with Tom? That the past two weeks have been really, really tough? That none of this is really easy?"

"I'm your big bro, you're supposed to talk to me about this stuff," Luke said.

"I knew you'd be disappointed, mate," Chris said. "But there's only so much family being personally offended that I can take."

"Mom and Dad...?" Luke ventured.

"No, they... they're okay. I... called them the first weekend when I really didn't know... didn't know what I was doing, and whether I was going out of my mind or not. No, Tom's family have been total dicks about everything, he... he came out to them by accident and it's been nothing but pain with them ever since."

"Did Tom know he was gay?" Luke asked. "I mean, he looks it."

"If you could just stop walking all over someone who means a great deal to me, that would be great," Chris said. "Why is it so fucking important whether someone is gay or not? Either you love somebody or you don't, since when does it matter to you what equipment they have?"

"Since it's been my little brother, that's when," Luke said heatedly.

"Well, get used to it," Chris huffed. "It's not going away." He took a deep breath, it felt good to be fighting with his brother, so normal.

"So you're serious about this."

"Like you would not believe."

"Wow." Chris heard a sound from the other end and concluded that Luke had sat down rather heavily. "Damn Chris, why didn't you say something earlier? I'm supposed to help you out with stuff."

"There was really nothing to tell," Chris said.

"You said this started when you first met...?" Luke probed. "You could've said something then...?"

"It's not that simple," Chris said. "You're not supposed to fall in love with your best mate. And nothing really happened, either. It's one of those things where it's all completely clear in hindsight, but at the time, it was just... you were testing the waters because you liked the other person and you wanted to see if something came back from them."

"And I take it it didn't?"

"I really liked him," Chris said.

"He really liked you, if I remember correctly," Luke said. "Damn."

"Yeah." Chris grinned, relieved that Luke had caught on. "Dad said he'd been waiting for me to come out to him back then, so it's not like it's gone completely unnoticed that we liked each other."

"Not like that it didn't," Luke groaned.

"Heh heh heh," Chris chuckled.

"I'm sorry I'm such a complete ass about it," Luke said. "It just... this was the last thing I thought I would hear when I called you."

"I know," Chris said. "Trust me, it was a surprise to me, too. Never thought it would go that way, honestly. I liked Tom and we got on like a house on fire, always have. I didn't expect this. Honestly. And it's entirely my fault, he would have never made the first move."

"I probably don't want to know the details," Luke cautioned.

"Too bad, it was pretty hot," Chris couldn’t help teasing.

"Oh, god." Luke groaned.

"Woo-hoo," Chris said, loving to make his brother squirm.

"Kip, shut up," Luke protested, using Chris' childhood nickname. "Way too much information."

They both chuckled, and then fell quiet.

"And now?" Luke asked after a while. "Damn, that's a huge mess you're in, little bro."

"Yeah," Chris said. "I know."

They shared a brotherly silence.

"I'm glad you know now, though," Chris said.

"Does Liam?"

"Not yet, and I want you to keep your mouth shut," Chris said. "I'm telling him when we've got some stuff figured out."

"Like?"

Chris told him about Elsa deciding she needed some distance to find out what she wanted to do next, and her shoot in Romania for the next six weeks, during which he and Tom would have India exclusively.

"We're meeting with a family therapist today," Chris said. "They're supposed to help us figure out where to go from here."

"A bit late for that, isn't it?"

"It was Elsa's idea to go to counseling now,” Chris said. “And honestly, if that’s what she wants, that’s what I’m going to do. I've done enough damage to her. I'm up for trying not to make it even worse. Scared shitless what's going to come fly my way, though."

"You should be."

"I know." Chris rubbed his daughter's belly and found his hand quickly captured and played with. "I know I've been an idiot."

"When the press finds out it's not going to be a pretty picture."

" _I know all that_ ," Chris said impatiently. "I know it, okay? I know it's all my fault, I know it's horrible what I'm doing to my wife, my agents are going to be having a fit, my publicist is already having one heart attack after the other. I will probably never work again. Tom's mum and sister hate my guts and don't talk to him any more, my wife nearly didn't let me see India again. I'm the most horrible person in all the world. I get it. I blew it. There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't blamed myself for yet."

"Then why go to all that trouble?" Luke asked.

"Because I fucking love him, okay?" Chris said. And he realized, right that moment, that he'd been avoiding these exact words because they were setting him apart – were putting him into a category other than his brother, and there was no way back from that. "I love him, and he loves me back. He makes me incredibly happy. He's worth it. That's all. That's all there is to it."

"Oh."

"I have no idea," Chris said. "No idea of how to get this across to anyone without sounding like a complete asshole or as if I'm completely obsessed or crazy or all of that together."

"It just comes so suddenly," Luke said. "Out of the blue."

"I should've talked more about how well we get on before," Chris concluded. He was getting angry, and he didn't quite know why, really. "I just want it to be all right!"

"Chris, give me some fucking time," Luke said. "I call and think we're talking about having Christmas with you and Elsa and I find out that that's all over and my little brother, who's never shown any interest in that before, has suddenly decided that he’s gay! Give me some damn credit, mate. I'm not trying to be obtuse, I need a moment to get what's going on!"

Chris fell into a sulky silence, feeling about nine years old. He was suddenly feeling exhausted and fed up with himself, and the little temper tantrum that he'd thrown was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. This was the way he'd been "solving his problems" so far, he realized. It didn't feel good any more.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're right." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay, is there something we can do for Elsa?" Luke asked.

"Give her a call," Chris said. "She's back in London; we're supposed to meet at 4 at the counseling office. I'm sure she'd love to get a call from Carol."

"So you two are talking to each other?"

"We're talking to each other," Chris said. "And god knows I know I've done her wrong, and I wish I could personally make her feel better, but I don't think I can."

"You're really serious about this."

"Yes." Chris tucked the phone against his shoulder and picked up India to lie on his raised legs. She joyfully bounced on his stomach. "Luke, I was happy with her. I was. I love India, she's the best thing I've ever done. But there was always... you know you do all the right things, and you love the person you're with, and you think, you wait... you wait to be happy and content and to kind of not want for anything. And I have been happy with her and at the same time I've... kind of... I was getting really miserable, and I didn't know why. I did more of the same things, spent more time with Elsa and India, I worked harder and... it didn't make a difference. And then I came back to London and started working with Tom again and suddenly, it was all right."

"And it wasn't enough to just hang out with him?" Luke asked, sounding a bit desperate.

"I thought it was. I started getting unfocused though, and I couldn't retain my lines, and it was getting really ridiculous. And then I asked Tom to help me out and we started doing my lines together... and then one thing lead to another and here I am." He kissed his daughter's nose, making her giggle. He drew a face at her and she squealed, bouncing with glee.

"And are you happy now?" Luke asked.

"Stupidly so," Chris revealed. "This is it, Luke. I'm home."

"And all the stuff we talked about before?" Luke cautioned. "Career, press, roles... Your reputation, basically."

"I've had all that," Chris said quietly. "I would be lying if I didn't admit it's scaring the hell out of me. But slowly dying inside because you're not with the person you want to be with, who is right there, who's making you feel alive and so damn happy you want to shout it from the rooftops... that's no way to live."

"It's just so hard to understand," Luke said. "Because I've never... it's just not my world, Chris."

“It’s not ‘my world’ either.” A shiver went through Chris and he decided to go for broke. "That's why I was afraid to talk to you," he said. "And afraid to talk to Liam. I'm still the same person, you know."

"You're suddenly in love with a man, and willing to give up your family for that," Luke pointed out. "That's not the brother I thought I knew, mate."

"Can I just say," Chris said, and swallowed on a dry throat. "And I realize I may be wasting my breath here, but..." He felt that his words were stuck in his throat suddenly. It was so hard to talk about something so personal to someone who had to struggle so hard to be able to see your point of view.

"What?"

"I'm still your brother, and I need you," he said. "I know I fucked up, but I'm working hard on salvaging what I can. If you decide I'm not the brother you know any more, you're walking away from me when I need you the most. Don't do that." He swallowed. "Please."

"Chris, we're not going to leave you in the dust, and you're still my idiot little brother," Luke said. "But we're not going to abandon Elsa and India either."

"That's good. I'm glad. Like I said, if I knew how to help her through this without hurting her even more, I would. But right now it's really hard for her to be around me, and I totally get that."

"Yeah." Luke sighed. "Damn, Chris."

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"No kidding. And Mom and Dad...?"

"Best you talk with them," Chris said. "I came crawling to their doorstep that first night because I didn't know what was going on and what to do."

"And what did they say?"

"Talk to them," Chris said. He realized he was coming to the end of his tether. "And leave Liam to me, please."

It was clear that didn't sit comfortably with Luke. "Okay."

"Listen, and no being awkward around me," Chris said. "Just don't."

"I'll try," Luke said. "Give us a couple of days to get used to this, Chris."

Chris wanted things to be good right now. "Okay." There was so much loss, it threatened to tear his heart out. He rested his forehead against his daughter’s chest, letting her play with his hair to her heart’s content. In the background, Chris heard keys in the flat’s lock. “Tom’s coming home.”

“Okay then… um…” Luke was clearly uncomfortable.

“You want to talk to him?” Chris asked. “I’m sure he’d like to say hi.” Without waiting for an answer, he put the phone against his chest. “Tom?!” he called. “Luke is on the phone. You want to talk to him?”

A delightfully dishevelled and sweaty Tom stuck his head through the door. “Let me get rid of my shoes,” he said. “Why’s Luke on your phone? Could he not reach me on mine?”

“Not that Luke,” Chris said. “My brother.”

Tom’s eyes went round. “Oh. Be right there.”

Chris went back on the phone. “He’ll be right here,” he said.

“What am I supposed to say?!” Luke said. “Chris, come on!”

“Whatever it is, it better be civil,” Chris insisted. “If you say something nasty to him, I swear… He’s got enough trouble with his own family because of me, he honestly doesn’t need any with mine.”

“God, Chris, what do you expect me to say…?”

“Here he is,” Chris said quickly and shoved the phone at Tom.

Tom was sitting down beside him, his legs crossed, and waved at India as he accepted the phone. “Luke? How are you doing? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

Chris meshed his hand with Tom’s and squeezed, praying very, very fast that Luke would not be a complete idiot, that he would think of something, fast, that he would be the big brother he had always counted on being - cool under pressure, decisive, fair.

Tom laughed. “Good, I’m fine, thanks. Yeah, movie is going great. It could go on for a bit if it was up to me, Loki is always so much fun to play.”

Then he grew quiet as he listened to Luke, and Chris knew his brother was talking about what he’d just told him. He squeezed Tom’s hand, hard, looking at him imploringly. Even India was going quiet, feeling that something was wrong.

“Yeah, um… no, I understand, Luke.” Tom exhaled. “No, no, you’re totally right. No, absolutely, please do. I talked to her yesterday when she brought India over…. yes, we talk.” He listened to Luke again. “Not at all. I’m amazed you’re even talking to me, honestly.” Chris felt Tom’s thumb brush over the back of his hand. “No, I didn’t have any idea, either. Honestly, don’t… don’t be too hard on Chris, please. No, I get it, Luke. I get it.” He grew quiet as Luke talked.

Chris shifted his seat to lean against Tom and cradled India in the bend of his knee. He bopped her gently with his leg, and she giggled.

“Luke, I’m not sure if I have any right to say anything,” Tom spoke next. “But see - there isn’t a single soul here who is taking any of this lightly. Not one. Not me, definitely not Chris. Do we wish it could’ve played out differently? Yes. Every single day. Every minute of every day. Do you think either one of us thinks it’s fun to break up a family like that, or to hurt the people we love? No. I mean, come on, you know me, and you know Chris.” He listened. “No, that would be wrong,” he said. “I guess it’s hard to believe but it’s not like we’re suddenly different people. What’s happening now has always been there. We were just stupid enough to let it get so bad that we’re now hurting a lot of people that shouldn’t have been hurt.” He blew out a breath. “But the love’s been there right from the start,” he said wistfully. “We were just too afraid to do anything about it.”

Chris blinked, and he found it suddenly difficult to breathe. He couldn’t talk like that with Luke, but Tom could.

“Certainly. I understand, and I’m sure so does Chris.” He listened. “No, I get it, I really do. But… one of my sisters has just decided that she’s not going to talk to me until I see the error of my ways, and… I’ve got to tell you, it’s tough. I get it that you need time to think it over and stuff, god knows we’re still working through it. But don’t just disappear, that would be awful. Okay? Give my best to Carol and the kids.” Luke obviously said something, and Tom nodded. “Sure. Hope we talk soon. Bye.” He handed the phone back to Chris and reached for India. “Hey baby girl,” he said, clapping his hands. “Want to come over?” She eyed him carefully, but didn’t protest when he picked her up and settled her in his lap. “Did you have a great morning with Daddy? Hm? Oh, I see, you were playing with… you want the lorry? Let’s get the lorry.” He picked the toy up and let it drive up his thigh towards his knee. “Like this? Honk, honk… oh, you want it?” He gave the toy up to India who snapped it up and started chewing on it, her eyes intent on Tom.

Chris watched them for a moment and wanted to smack himself upside the head for how damn lucky he was to have fallen in love with Tom of all people. He cleared his throat and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

“Listen, Chris… promise me you’ll take care of Elsa.”

“As much as she’ll let me,” Chris said. “I promise. And I’m glad you worry about her, okay? You’re someone who can actually do something. She’ll let you and Carol take care of her, and that’s…” He laughed. “That’s good. I should’ve thought about that before.”

“That means I’m letting myself and my family be pulled into what you fucked up,” Luke said. “Jesus, you’d think I would learn at some point.”

“Best big brother award,” Chris said.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” But he could hear that Luke was starting to come around. “Really, when you think you’re done…”

“I love you,” Chris said.

“Oh, shut up.” But he could hear that Luke was pleased.

“Listen, um… we’re off for breakfast,” Chris said. “If that’s okay? I’ll… I’ve honestly not thought about Christmas yet, we wanted to meet in LA, right?”

“That was the plan.”

“Listen, um… let me talk to Elsa and hear what she wants to do, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I know how she feels about it. I mean, I would still… I miss you guys. I’d love to meet up for Christmas, but I also want to spend it with India and… with Tom. If we can… if we can make all of that come together…”

“You’d have to tell Liam,” Luke said dryly.

“I can tell Liam and then kick his ass in the ring and that’s going to be it,” Chris huffed. “You know how he is if he think’s he’s getting my goat. If he dares to make a single buttsex joke I want to be there to shove it back down his throat.”

Luke laughed. “Okay, maybe you didn’t change as much I thought,” he conceded.

“Good. Mission accomplished.” Chris exhaled.

“Listen, the family is waiting,” Luke said. “Talk soon?”

“Yeah… that would be great.” Chris felt like a rock had lifted off his heart. “Give my love to Carol and the girls.”

“Will do. Take care.”

“Yeah, you too.” He turned off the phone and deflated. “Fuck.”

“How long do you think it’ll take her to pick up on your language?” Tom asked, mildly amused. “Hey India, go give your Daddy a hug, I think he could use one.”

“Daddy could use a hug,” Chris conceded and accepted his daughter back. “God that was close.”

“Are you okay?” Tom reached out and traced his jaw.

“Yeah. I think so.” Chris blew out a breath. “I think the training with your family last week helped. Still not one of my favorite past times. Coming out sucks.”

“And there are still so many people to go,” Tom said philosophically. “Makes you kind of wish you could do it in one fell swoop.”

“Not today,” Chris protested. “Man, and I still have that counseling thing this afternoon. Ungh. I’ve already had enough.”

“The weather’s brilliant out,” Tom said, getting to his feet. “What do you say, I go grab a quick shower and we go out for breakfast?”

“With India?”

Tom shrugged. “Sure.”

“Wait, wait, you, me, and India go out for breakfast.”

“Yeah, there’s that little cafe a couple of streets over. I always go there, everyone knows me. It’s no big deal. They’re going to love India,” Tom said. “Come on, say yes.”

“It does sound nice,” Chris conceded.

“And India will be sooooo tired after an hour in the fresh cold air, right little princess?” Tom said.

Chris laughed. “Ah. I know where you’re coming from now.”

Tom shrugged. “Just combining business with pleasure,” he said. “It really is gorgeous out today and I’d hate to waste the day inside.”

“Okay then,” Chris said. He got to his feet, India on his arm. “You go grab that shower, I’ll get India ready and pack her stuff.”

“Perfect.” Tom leaned over to kiss him. “I’m going to hurry.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has a call by yet another family member. Tom, Chris and India have a posh breakfast together. And last no least, there is some absolutely consensual bondage with some unforeseen consequences. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Tom really did hurry, showers without Chris not really being very interesting. He caught himself fantasizing about what he'd do with him tomorrow, when they had the whole day to themselves, and time to just lazily let their feelings determine the next course of action. A languid shower or bath certainly seemed like a very good idea.

He toweled himself off superficially and let his skin finish drying while he used the blow dryer. Some lotion and a bit of product in his hair later, he strolled into the bedroom naked to find something to wear.

He noticed that Chris had remade the bed and cleaned up around it while he had been out running. It made Tom smile; the simple domesticity of it, knowing Chris felt at home and at ease. Tom made a mental note to take care of the laundry later in return.

The door to the living room stood open, and he heard Chris come down the wooden stairs, talking on the phone. Tom fished out some underwear and pulled it on, his brow creasing at how stressed Chris sounded.

"No, no, really, we're fine. Yes, Elsa brought India last night. No, Tom said it went without a hitch."

Tom moved over to the wardrobe and chose some comfortable jeans and his favorite black cardigan. He shivered appreciatively at the feeling of the freshly laundered cotton on his skin.

"Mom, really. It's fine." He heard Chris say. "Yes, we do. Do I worry? I do worry."

Tom sat on the side of the bed to pull on some thick socks, then threw himself across it to get to the top drawer of his nightstand. The leather bracelet was waiting for him in there. He pulled it out and turned it once in his hand, then put it on.

"Not really," Chris said. "Mom, I really appreciate your concern. I really do. And I mean absolutely no offense, but I have just a few hours today with Tom and India before we're all going our separate ways for the rest of the day. I want to make the most of it."

Tom sat up and then crossed over to the mirror to check his appearance one last time before he slowly walked into the living room, not really wanting to disturb Chris' call with his mother. But he shouldn't have worried, he realized very quickly. Chris had packed India's diaper bag and was bouncing her on one knee, her little jacket and boots waiting to be put on her while he was talking. Tom quickly moved in and picked her up, then sat down beside Chris and started to tackle the challenge that was getting a squirming, talkative baby into an impossibly tiny jacket.

"No, she's going back to Elsa's tonight," Chris said, sounding incredibly frustrated. "No, it's fine. No, I have no idea yet when we'll have her next week, but Elsa leaves by Saturday, so then she'll be here permanently until Elsa comes back. Uh-huh."

Tom closed the zipper on India's jacket and motioned for Chris to let him talk to his mother.

"Mom, Tom's here, he'd like to talk to you. Okay. Okay. I love you, too. I will. Absolutely. Talk to you soon!" He looked completely exasperated when he handed the phone over and picked up India, instead.

"Hello Fiona," Tom said cheerfully. "How lovely that you call. How are you? How's Greg?"

"Good morning, Tom," she said. "We're fine, just a little worried today. How are you?"

"We're doing really well," Tom said, aiming to put her at ease. "India's had a bit of a cry last night when she missed her parents, but she's been acclimating quite well, I have to say."

"Are you?" Fiona asked. She knew how worried he was to make everything as good as possible for India. "Honestly, is Chris?"

"It was our first night," Tom said. "And it went really well for that."

"Oooh, the polite British version of telling me not to be nosy," Fiona laughed.

"That's not really it," Tom said. He crossed his legs and settled against the backrest. "It's really more what Chris just said – we have precious little time together today, and we're just heading out for breakfast and..." He shrugged his shoulders. "So we're a little in the middle of things, and no offense is meant at all."

"Tom," Fiona said. "Two weeks ago he called us, completely at his wits' end about you and him. Last week, you were both very shaken by coming out to your family. A few moments ago, Luke calls me, very upset why we haven't said anything, and what is going on. You do know we would like to keep being there for both of you when things get dicey, right?"

"I know, and so does Chris." Tom fiddled with a loose thread on the folded blanket by his side. "But you need to give us some time to process things on our own first. Luke literally just called, and we haven't even talked about it ourselves yet. And honestly, we're just desperate to spend some time together because the week was super busy again and we've hardly seen each other out of work."

"Charging ahead, am I?" Fiona asked, sounding a bit chagrined.

"Slightly," Tom allowed, grinning wryly. "We're not trying to keep you guys out of the loop, honestly."

"But we don't need to be in it constantly either, I get it," Fiona said. "My apologies, Tom."

"We'll be so happy to encroach on your time and patience again soon," Tom said.

"Uh-huh." She laughed.

"Just give us a moment to get our bearings first. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, mollified. "That was the nicest telling off I've ever had in my life, Tom."

"We love you, too," Tom said, his heart expanding with the words. "We honestly do, and you would not believe how much I appreciate you caring so much. But right now, let me take care of Chris, okay? I promise that once I've damaged him beyond recognition, I'll give him back to you."

She laughed. "I hardly believe that will be happening," she said. "I know he's in capable hands. Well." She sighed. "Give my lovely granddaughter a kiss from me, and please enjoy your day together."

"I'll remind Chris to let you know how the counseling went," Tom said. "I promise."

"Okay. Thank you, Tom. We'll talk to you soon?"

"You can count on it."

They said their goodbyes, and Tom hung up. He turned around to Chris, who was bouncing a now booted India on his knee, and put a hand on his thigh. 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Chris shrugged. "A bit out of my mind," he said. "First Luke, now my mom, and I'm trying not to think about the fact that Elsa is going to want her pound of flesh this afternoon. I've been better."

"Hey." Tom nuzzled against Chris' bearded cheek. "I love you."

It made Chris smile. "That's about the only thing that keeps me afloat right now."

"Hm. That's the one thing that got you into that much trouble, though," Tom said.

"Worth it." Chris turned his head and kissed him. India reacted by squealing and bouncing. It made both of them smile. "Hm. I think my daughter kind of likes it when I kiss you," he murmured, and did it again. India giggled and kicked her legs.

"Has she ever seen two men kiss?" Tom asked.

"Aside from us last night? I don't think so."

"She must think this is very funny." Tom rubbed his nose with Chris. He then rubbed his nose with India. India attempted to hold on to his ears. "No no, honey, you rub your nose with Daddy now."

"Da!"

"That's right, Daddy!"

Tom made way for Chris to rub noses with his baby.

"Now back to me," Tom said.

"I'd rather do this," Chris said, and kissed Tom.

"Oh! Did you see that, India! Now I've got to kiss you!" Tom said, kissing her soft cheek, and because she gurgled and laughed, kissed the other cheek, too. "Now you kiss Daddy!"

Chris let her stand on his thigh and held her close to his face.

"Like this, look, India." Tom kissed Chris' cheek. She watched him carefully and nearly headbutted her father when she tried to mimic him. Chris laughed. "Again, India. Look." Tom pursed his lips and applied a kiss to Chris' cheek bone. India left a wet blob on Chris' other cheek and then looked for Tom's approval. "Yay! You did it!" he cheered. "See, every time Daddy is sad, you do this..." he kissed his cheek again, and Chris smiled. "And everything is okay!"

"Mamamama," India said, headbutting Chris again.

Chris simply enveloped both in his arms and kissed first India, and then Tom. "I love you, too," he said. "Both of you."

  
  


* * *

  
  


The weather really was as spectacular as Tom had said. Bundled up in their coats, shawls and caps and India safely ensconced in a cozy foot muff in her pushchair, Chris immediately saw what a good idea it had been to get out of the flat and into the fresh air. He said as much, closing up to his lover, who was proudly pushing the chair with the baby in it.

"It is gorgeous, isn't it?" Tom said. "I thought it would be nice to clear out our heads."

"But you already did," Chris said, hooking his arm into Tom's.

Tom walked a few steps before he answered. "I'm kind of tired of hiding," he said, looking at Chris. "I don't want to pretend we're not living together, that we're not sharing a life. Regardless of whether we want to come out to the world at large or not, I love that the two of you are living with me, and I'm not going to hide that."

It made Chris smile. "That's good," he said.

"Is it what you want?" Tom asked, giving him a careful look.

Chris shrugged. "You know what I want, just come out and be done with it," he said, hearing how mewly he sounded. "But I can see that I've already done enough damage and I can see how hard it is for family to cope. But honestly, I wish I wouldn't have to care. Just say what it is and let them deal with it on their own."

"You're pretty fed up with Luke, aren't you?" Tom asked.

"I'm fed up with having to be understanding with everyone's reactions. I'm fed up with having to be tense when someone calls who doesn't know yet. I'm fed up that people make such a fucking big deal out of who you love. I'm fed up of having to care about other people's feelings, as if it was my job to make them feel better about their own homophobia," it burst out of Chris. "I'm fed up of having to defend falling in love with the best person I know. I'm fed up with people thinking I need to feel horrible about it. I'm fed up that I'm supposed to care about how everyone else feels about it, but no one asks how I do."

"Your mom just did," Tom pointed out.

"True." Chris sighed. "Now I'm feeling bad about that on top of it all."

"I heard how monumentally fed up you were," Tom said carefully. "I kind of like that we take care of each other's family when the other person has reached their limit."

"We do," Chris said, smiling. "I did take your mom off your hands last week."

"Yeah." Tom's smile turned wistful.

Chris immediately regretted mentioning it. Tom's mother had basically kicked him out of the family the previous weekend, unless he would leave Chris and "come to his senses". They had not talked since, and he knew how hard that was for Tom, who was very close to his mother.

"Now I feel super stupid about complaining about my mom," Chris said. "But her questions hit a little too close to home and I really didn't want to deal with it this morning."

"I think she understood," Tom said. "Right around that corner and we're there."

Chris had a feeling that his mother had not so much understood his recalcitrance but reacted to Tom asking her to let him take care of Chris. He'd been on the phone with her a lot these past two weeks, whenever he'd felt unsure about how to act, or what to do next, or felt that he was going out of his mind trying to build a relationship with Tom while taking care of Elsa, and at some point realizing that that wasn't possible without short-changing everyone, including himself.

One conversation in particular stood out for him, Monday morning after he and Tom had finally kissed the first time, made love the first time, and then many many more times. When he had still been so busy making sure Tom would not regret what he'd done, busy making sure he made him feel that things would be okay, that he would take care of Tom and Tom's insecurity, questions and doubts. When he felt that he just needed to get them both to a safe space before he could concentrate on anything else. And his mother had listened to him, and asked him that one deciding question: "And who is taking care of you?"

"I think she understood," Chris said slowly, thinking out loud, "That I'm not alone with this, so she backed off and let us deal with it."

"That sounds about right," Tom smiled. They had reached the café, and Chris hurried to open the door so Tom could push India through. It was a very cozy, snug affair, having the air of a turn-of-the-century tea house with its wainscoting, stucco and what seemed to be original fabric patterned wallpaper. The smell of a full English breakfast buffet was wafting through the room, immediately making Chris' mouth water and stomach rumble.

It was clear it was a bit upscale and would afford them some privacy, and Chris did not mind one bit. They were greeted by a smartly dressed lady in her forties, the proprietor of the business. "A table for three this morning, Mr. Hiddleston?" she asked.

"Yes," Tom said. "We will need a high chair for the baby."

"Certainly. If you want to leave the pushchair right in front, I'll ask Thomas to store it in the wardrobe with your coats."

"That would be perfect, thank you so much, Celine."

Chris quickly hit the pushchair's breaks to aid Tom, who was unzipping the baby from her muff. India reached to be taken out, but Tom forgot a buckle and nearly lifted the whole chair with the baby.

"Ah, I see the problem, I'm sorry, India," Tom said, sat her down, unbuckled her, and lifted her out again. "There. Much better."

Chris unhooked the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder, and a busy young man in a smart waiter's uniform appeared to take their coats and the pushchair.

"If you'll follow me," Celine said and lead them to the back room where they found a nice table by the window, looking out over the back green, with a padded bench encasing it on two sides, and two chairs, one of which was quickly replaced by a high chair. "Would you like tea or coffee with your breakfast?"

"We'll start with coffee, but we'd appreciate a pot of Earl Grey a little later," Tom ordered. "And could you please bring us the tryout breakfast for two? No need for the menu."

"That is quite a bit of food," she cautioned.

"I know," Tom smiled. "We're very hungry."

"Very well," she said. "Do you need a bottle warmed for the little one?"

"We'll let her try from our food," Chris decided, "but if she gets fussy, yes, that would be nice."

"Just let me know," she said. "Please enjoy your breakfast."

"I'm certain we will," Tom said.

Once she was gone, Tom peeled India out of her layers of clothing while she tried to grasp for everything on the table, and Chris pushed the utensils out of her reach. He dug into the diaper bag and gave her a toy, but she was feeling rambunctious and flung it across the table, and then grinned cheekily at him, waiting for a reaction.

"No no no," Chris said. "We're not flinging things in nice cafés."

"Da!" she said, leaning her torso over the table, reaching for the sugar.

"Maybe give her a spoon?" Tom suggested.

Chris pushed one over. She gave him a look and they played a little game for a while, him just keeping it out of her reach, and she stretching to get it.

He finally gave the spoon up when food and coffee arrived, and she mouthed it contentedly, watching the proceedings with avid interest. Chris took her over and seated her in the high chair to his right. He fixed a bib to her neck and broke off a plain piece of scone for her to mouth.

"She is so cute," Tom said. "Sorry for getting sentimental, but look at that."

Chris chuckled, surveying the feast before him. There was a full English breakfast spread on a rather large oval plate, and several selections of bakery fresh from the oven with assorted butters and jams, as well as a couple of hard-boiled eggs and other breakfast amenities. He quickly peeled an egg and cut it in baby-sized pieces and then realized that Tom was spreading butter and jam on a slice of toast that he was then cutting up into little squares for India to try.

"She's going to be such a mess," Chris cautioned. "You know that jam will end up all over her face and in her hair, right?"

Tom shrugged. "You're a baby only once in your life," he said. "We can clean her up later."

Chris watched him fondly. "Thank you," he said, and when a quick look revealed that no one was close to observe them, he leaned over and placed a kiss on Tom's cheek. "You're perfect."

"I wouldn't go that far," Tom said, pleased. "But thank you."

It turned out to be a very pleasant breakfast. The English was plentiful and sating, the coffee was strong and kept coming. By the time the big plates were cleared and they moved on to the sweet breads, the tea arrived, and Chris felt his nerves settle. India had been trying a variety of new foods, which they introduced to her whenever she seemed bored with her current selection, and she had been very good for a long time.

"Tom, I'm going to go change her real quick," Chris said. "Could you ask the staff to warm up some fennel tea for her?"

"I will," Tom assured him. "See you two in a moment."

The usual problem presented itself, that the men's room didn't come with a changing room attached. The proprietress herself stood guard until he was finished in the lady's room, and he thanked her when he returned with a freshly cleaned baby.

"They assured me the tea will be here soon," Tom said when they returned. "Can I hold her?" He reached out for India.

"Let me?" Chris asked. He scooted onto his side of the bench, cradling India in his right arm.

"Sure." Tom sounded curious.

"Just feel like cuddling with her a little," Chris said. He reached out behind the table and squeezed Tom's hand.

"Of course." Tom pressed his hand back.

"You're wearing the bracelet," Chris said quietly.

"Yeah." Tom gave him a shy smile. "I hope you don't mind."

Chris' heart threatened to leap out his throat. "No. Not at all." He got lost in Tom's eyes until the waiter approached to bring India's bottle with tea. Chris didn't care, those eyes were about the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Is there anything else I can bring?" the waiter asked.

"No, thank you, we are very happy," Tom said.

Chris realized, they really were.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom took his time with Chris once they had settled India. They had pushed her napping time as far back as possible, and now she was sound asleep, her little cheeks aglow from their park adventures in the fresh air earlier. No doubt she was having some very vivid dreams of being swung around, saying hello to and being nuzzled by a friendly dog with very soft fur and a wet, sniffing nose, "flying" on Chris' arm while chasing Tom around some trees, and her first ride in the tube. She'd been freshly changed and Chris swaddled her tightly into a blanket, and she dozed off in the cot on her own, without either of them having to sing or read her to sleep.

Tom took Chris' hand and quietly lead him to the bedroom and then, wordlessly, appreciatively, kissed him gently and slowly peeled him out of every article of clothing, his lips following every inch of skin that was laid bare. How many times Chris had told him how much he enjoyed being taken apart bit by bit by Tom, and then it had taken them a few tries to realize it wasn't about wild fucking, it was about being so gentle, so appreciative, so incredibly intimate that every bit of Chris was abuzz with emotion.

It was so easy to assume that because Chris was the bulkier of the two, he would automatically be the caretaker, and the one to take charge. And Chris was a very passionate, but also gentle, considerate lover, and enjoyed it when Tom took over to make love to him. And here he was now, prone on the bed, with Tom crouched over him, worshiping every inch of him, and he was absolutely in the palm of Tom's hand, arching into every touch, every kiss, every slide of tongue against skin.

They finally turned on their sides, skin sliding against each other as they kissed, fingertips gently tracing each other's backs. Tom slung his leg over Chris' and hooked it back behind his knee, making Chris giggle and shiver.

"Your feet are cold," he whispered.

"What a domestic thing to say," Tom chided gently.

"Keep kissing me."

"Hmmmm..." Chris was such an incredible kisser, those full lips mobile and succulent against Tom's. "How would you like me?" Tom asked.

"Just be here," Chris said, and his voice choked a little.

"I'm here." So this wasn't a moment for strange positions and uninhibited sex. Tom traced Chris' brow with gentle fingertips. "You are so beautiful."

"So are you." Chris shifted and slid on top of Tom, making the slighter man groan with appreciation. He loved being pinned by Chris' weight. Chris entwined their hands and moved slowly on top of him. "Hmmm... would you mind me oiling you up a little?" he asked.

"Not at all." Tom's heartbeat picked up at the thought.

"Do we have everything here?" Chris asked.

"No, it's back in the bathroom," Tom said. While Chris was gone, he couldn't help but give his cock a few appreciative strokes. It made his lover shake his head and cluck at him when he came back.

"You shouldn't start without me," he chided gently. Crouching over Tom on all fours, he nudged Tom's hand away and placed a series of small kisses along his shaft.

"Ooooooh," Tom moaned, squirming under his touch.

"Turn over," Chris ordered, shaking the bottle with the massage oil suggestively.

"Really?" Tom pouted.

Chris leaned over him and whispered in his ear. "I heard it's called _delayed gratification_."

"I don't like it." Tom pulled him on top of his body again. "I want you against me and I want to see you while you touch me."

"Hmmm." Chris growled in the back of his throat and Tom felt his cock move against his own. "Assertive, aren't we?"

Tom bit his lip, wondering how far he wanted to take this. He tested the waters by pushing up, and was quickly rewarded by Chris pinning him down and moving against him more decisively. "God, yes," he moaned.

"Ohoh," Chris murmured against his ear. "Is this where we're going?"

Tom struggled a little more, making sure his squirming had the maximum turn-on effect on Chris.

"What are you playing at?" Chris asked, his voice damp and intimate against his ear. "My my my, Tom."

"I don't know what you mean," Tom said innocently and suddenly had the brilliant idea of stretching, as if he was bored. "Nothing going on here," he yawned, knowing full well that Chris had an immense fetish for his stretched out torso.

Chris was instantly amused. "If there's something you'd like me to do, tell me," he said.

"But this was supposed to be your time," Tom said.

"It doesn't work that way." Chris slid off and laid down beside Tom, Tom's disappointed mewl making him grin mischievously. "It's always both of us."

"You wanted to oil me up," Tom pouted.

"And you want me to..." Chris prompted.

"Stop teasing me," Tom said.

Chris laughed. "Says the right person." Tom had tortured him to the bursting point in their first night together.

"Tie me up and bend me to your lust," Tom said quickly on top of his breath.

A slow smile appeared on Chris' face, and one finger trailed lazily down Tom's middle line. "Is that so."

Tom let out a frustrated growl. "What must I do..." But Chris was already on top of him, kissing him deeply, his large hands sliding under his torso. "God, yes," Tom exhaled. "More. Bind me to the headboard and stretch me into your mouth."

Finally, it seemed to hit Chris, as well.

"Run your hair over my skin," Tom panted, digging his fingers into Chris' generous locks. "Oh god, Chris, please. Stretch me out." He cried out when Chris' tongue bathed his right nipple and sucked roughly on it. "Please."

Chris kissed him, his hair hiding both of their faces. He crouched over Tom, and then sat up, a magnificent sight, his muscled bulk, biceps rippling, his cock rising proudly from his slim hips.

"God, I am so fucking gay for you and not a bit sorry about it," Tom exhaled. "Look at that. I want to eat you alive. Everything about you is perfect." He let his fingertips run around Chris' pecs appreciatively, brushing his tight nipples, then down his ribs. He was so entranced that he gasped with surprise when Chris caught one of his hands and then proceeded to kiss each of his fingertips while he gently closed the cuff around his wrist. Shivering with arousal, Tom's hips came up and his cock stuttered along Chris' perineum. Chris grinned and shook his head, shifting back to the top of Tom's thighs.

"My my my," he rumbled good-naturally.

"Don't tease," Tom gasped. "Don't tease."

"I'm not." Chris took his other hand and placed a kiss into his palm as he closed the cuff. "I love you."

"I feel like I'm going to burst," Tom panted.

"Let me take care of you, honey," Chris murmured.

"If that means _let me fuck you into oblivion_ then yes, please," Tom begged.

"No." Chris leaned over him and kissed him gently. "I'm going to make love with you, Tom."

Tom was trembling with arousal, and he was trembling with apprehension. Going for it with wild abandon, taking care of Chris, being Chris' lover, he was good at all of that. Letting go so Chris could take care of him, relaxing enough to experience his full range of emotion in this very vulnerable position, not so much. He exhaled, and didn't even try to calm his racing heart. "Okay," he conceded, shivering with excitement.

"Go scoot to the middle of the bed," Chris said gently, and Tom quickly did so, his erection bobbing painfully on his belly.

Chris folded the duvet. Tom sat up and Chris placed it against his back, with a pillow on top, then helped Tom lie stretched out over it. "Is that okay for you?" he asked, his voice having an excited rasp to it.

"Please prop up my head, I want to see you," Tom said. Chris found another pillow. He surveyed his work, his breath shallow, nostrils flaring. Before Tom could say anything, he quickly snapped the leather straps to one of the D-rings on each cuff and pulled them around the beams of the headboard. Tom felt the stretch along his arms and ribcage and groaned appreciatively. "Oh, yes."

Chris tugged the straps and snapped them closed, making Tom cry out as his torso bent sharply over the duvet and pillow.

"This is so good," Tom moaned.

Chris moved to the bottom of the bed and pulled at Tom's legs until he was tight as a bow. Every one of his nerve endings tingled, and when the first drops of the massage oil hit his skin and started criss-crossing over it, he strained against his bindings, cock, balls and nipples so tight they hurt. He felt how Chris' hands started spreading the oil, touching him reverently, kissing along his middle line, his hands sliding to his back and pulling him up into his mouth. Tom was rendered speechless, the sensations making it impossible for him to think, or form coherent words. Chris touched him reverently with impeccable timing, alternating deep strokes with a hard grip against his back that lifted him to his waiting lips and tongue. Tom's mouth stood open as he wrestled for breath, his head flung back in ecstasy.

Chris slowly moved the drips of oil lower, to Tom's navel, and from there, across his hip bones and cock, followed by his sensitive hands. His mouth enveloped the tip of Tom's cock while he spread the oil around his balls, letting them slip through his fingers as Tom pushed up. He sucked him in, undulating his tongue against him, his fingertips massaging his perineum until Tom's gasp told him that he had hit the spot that counted. What followed mostly blurred in Tom's mind; was a mixture between the hot, wet suction around his cock, the insistently probing fingertips against his prostate and the delicious pulling sensation along his ribcage and arms as Chris bent him to his pleasure.

"Tom, give yourself to me," he heard Chris moan. "Please. Come for me. Let me taste you." He licked along his shaft. "Please come. Come into my mouth."

"Almost... oh god... almost there, Chris," Tom panted desperately. "Suck... suck me deep... oh god... yeah... like that... hard...er... oh my god." He jerked upwards into Chris' mouth, rasping against the back of his throat, four, five times until he felt his balls contract and shot up into him, pulling desperately against his restraints as his orgasm wrecked his body with spasms. He cried out; each pump seemed to pull his seed out of his entire lower body, and his cock was determined to fill Chris to the brim. The last pump hurt, and he pulled back, tears streaming down his face. Chris looked up, and his expression of deep satisfaction and bliss immediately changed to one of concern. "Un... untie me," Tom sobbed. "Too much. Too much."

Chris was up in a flash, unsnapping the straps from the rings, and immediately gathered Tom in his arms, stroking his hair, holding him close. "Shhh..." he made, rocking him gently. "It's okay, honey. I've got you."

Tom held on to him hard, his face buried against Chris' shoulder, as his body was wrecked with sobs that he could not quite explain. Chris had a way of touching him so deeply when he let him, and shook loose so many old things that it was sometimes hard to pinpoint just what it was that made him cry. He'd held on so tight for so long, and Chris had been his lover for only the last two weeks, and sometimes it still meant that his soul poured out in unexpected ways, at unexpected times.

And the only thing that made it bearable and allowed him to let go with Chris at all was that he could always be100% sure that Chris would always be there, no matter what, no questions asked. There were no conditions to his love, no expectations Tom had to fulfill to earn it, and whatever came out was okay. And looking back at it now, he'd never had that, with one parent emotionally absent and the other so preoccupied with her own feelings that he had felt he needed to take care of her, instead of the other way around.

He wouldn't have chosen this day of all days, when the tension ran so high, and Chris really needed his support. But maybe Chris had needed it; he was so gentle with him, held him close, rubbed his back, and let him cry on him until all there was left was dry sobs.

"Better?" Chris asked. He lifted his face by his chin and wiped his tears away.

"Still pretty shaken," Tom admitted, his body riddled with another sob.

"I love you so much," Chris said.

"That's the only thing that makes this possible," Tom said, cuddling back into his embrace. "I can't really be sorry for it, either."

"Me neither," Chris said, kissing his hair. "It's okay. It really is."

Tom looked up at him and brushed his hair out of his face. "Thank you."

"Thank you." Chris kissed him gently.

"Can I please have some comfort sex," Tom requested, pulling him a little closer. "Could you come between my legs, please?"

"Oh, Tom..."

"Please. I know you haven't come, and I miss feeling you move between my legs."

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

"I'm begging you, please?" Tom said. "Let me be close to you."

"You show me what you need, okay?"

"Thank you." He kissed him, knowing that his lips were probably salty from his tears. Chris' cock had lost interest somewhat over all the crying, but Tom's kisses quickly deepened Chris' breaths.

"This is good," Chris murmured appreciatively. "So good."

"Yeah." Tom fished for the bottle of massage oil and spread some on his hand, then on Chris' cock. "So good, love."

Chris moaned, his forehead pressed hard against Tom's shoulder.

"Yes.... love... hmm... move between my legs... love... Chris..." He pressed his thighs together and pulled his balls forward, inserting the tip of Chris' cock smoothly. "Please." He felt him press in, and they both moaned in unison. "Like that. Oh, Chris." He laughed gently. "You feel so good."

"Hm." Chris turned him on his back and clamped his thighs around Tom's, so he didn't have to work so hard to keep the closed. His cock moved against Tom's perineum, brushing against his crack, transferring the sensation further back. 

Tom licked his lips and closed his eyes, letting Chris love him. His lips were so gentle on his collarbone, his hair tickling against his skin, his breath cooling on his sweat. Tom felt himself go hard again as Chris' thrusts sped up. He just leaned back and let Chris' gentle passion carry him along, feeling so well loved and so safe.

"So good," Chris moaned. "You feel so good."

"Come when you're ready," Tom murmured, running his fingers through Chris' hair.

"Going to pull out and paint you," Chris murmured, his hips snapping forward as he reached full arousal.

"Yes."

"Make you mine."

"Yes."

"Love you..." He panted. "So much, Tom... love you...."

Tom let an oiled finger slip between Chris' butt cheeks, figuring he could always wash his hands later.

"Ah..." was Chris' immediate reaction, being very sensitive in that area. "That's good, Tom... good..." he licked his lips.

"Let me bring you pleasure, my love." Tom circled gently around his hole without trying to go inside.

"So... close." Chris pulled out and Tom could feel his hand working frantically, and just a moment later, he gasped, and Tom felt his semen streak across his torso.

Tom laughed, welcoming it, this physical manifestation of how Chris felt about him. "This is so good," he moaned. "Hm, a little more, Chris."

"Ha ha." Chris chuckled quietly, still quivering with the last tremors of his orgasm. He managed one more spurt, and then collapsed by Tom's side, pulling his sweaty forehead against his own. "Thank you."

"Thank you." They held on to each other's necks, breathing the same air, feeling deeply connected, and yet so light about each other.

Nothing more was necessary.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is leaving for his counseling session with Elsa

It was three thirty when the flat's door fell into its lock behind Chris and India. Tom leaned against it, forehead and hands flat on its surface, until Chris' steps could not be heard any more, and the front door clapping denoted his exit from the building.

Tom stayed a little longer in that position, imagining Chris and his daughter getting into the cab, how Chris settled her in the baby seat and put the diaper bag in the foot space. They had consciously decided to say their goodbyes in the flat, where they could be as heartbroken and affectionate as they wanted to be. Chris didn't want him to stand at the curb and watch them drive away.

The day had simply been too short. They had been lying in bed dozing and cuddling until India had started to wake up, and then just let the day progress at a lazy pace – playing with India, having a light lunch to tide them over to dinner, and then hitting three o'clock, which meant that Chris had to get himself ready while Tom dressed India to see her mom.

He had said, when he hugged both of them goodbye, that he would not mind if Chris brought her back with him. Chris had kissed him sadly and said he didn't think Elsa would let him, but that he appreciated the sentiment all the same. The moment was steeped in melancholy, their foreheads pressed together, and India not wanting to be left out and adding hers.

Tom had kissed her little hand goodbye and let them out, his heart so heavy it seemed to hit the floor boards with a blunt _thunk_. And here he was, suddenly alone in what used to be his _sanctum sanctorum_ from the business of the world and wanted nothing more than it being filled with the people he loved.

"Pull yourself together," he murmured to himself. Then he threw all semblance of being able to deal with this rationally out of the window, put on some sad music and sang along, allowing himself to feel worried, morose and heartbroken while he cleaned up after them and put on a fresh load of laundry. When he was done with that, he switched to a more upbeat set of music, sat down with tonight's schedule and made last minute adjustments to his speech, trying not to look at the clock every two minutes and failing miserably.

Four. They should meet now. At four fifteen, Chris would have to say goodbye to India. At four thirty, the session began. It was supposed to end at six, just when Tom's function began. They would not even be able to talk on the phone afterwards, and it was completely open so far what Chris would be up to after the session – would he and Elsa decide to talk some more? Would things go so bad that they would part ways? Tom had assured Chris that he was very welcome to come to the reception later, but he just couldn't get away that night. Part of his duties as a BIFA judge this year was to be at this fund raiser, where film makers met potential sponsors, introduced their projects, wined, dined and courted them, and he knew he was one of the major draws. For an industry that had given him his first break, he had too much to give back to leave them in the lurch on such short notice.

To get there on time, he had to leave by five thirty. Plenty of time to get ready and then stand around awkwardly in his tux, getting hobnob crumbs on it. Plenty of time to worry himself sick.

Tom put his papers aside and drew up a leg to wrap his arms around it and rest his cheek on his knee. The silence in his flat seemed to echo in his ears and suddenly, he just couldn't stand it any longer. Chris might not be there, but it didn't mean he had to face this alone.

He pulled out the phone and speed-dialed a number.

 

* * *

 

The cab pulled up in front of a nondescript office building at the address Chris had given the driver. He paid the fare and unbuckled his daughter, then was helped by the cabbie to get both her and the diaper bag out of the cab. It was windy and cool, and the earlier blue sky was now covered in dark gray clouds, threatening snow.

He'd hoped to be able to spend a few moments longer with India outside, playing, but it was clearly too cold for the little one, so he hurried into the building. It was clean and officious inside, and a sign by the elevator showed the counseling office's name and floor. He got in with India and pushed the button, finding himself rocking on his toes.

Elsa and Becky were waiting in the office's reception area, sitting by the window with a huge fern framing their backs. They were quietly talking to each other, Becky's hand on Elsa's arm. The sight sent such a pang of regret and compassion through Chris that he stood bolted to the ground for what seemed like a very long time. Then India squirmed and called out for her mother, and both Elsa and Becky's heads flew up. They just stared at each other over the office floor space, and when he didn't move, Elsa said something to Becky and then got up and walked towards him.

It was the strangest situation Chris had ever been in, his body consumed by a host of deeply conflicting emotions. The baby was leaning towards her mother, and he took her as an excuse and held her out for Elsa to pick up, unable to say anything. He wanted to hug Elsa and make her laugh, the way he always had, knowing that nothing was the same any more, and his body and mind longed so deeply for Tom to be here that he felt sick with it.

_I can't do this,_ he thought for a panicked moment. _I can't do this._

Elsa took India out of his hands and hugged her, the baby kicking and excited about seeing her, and Elsa focused solely on her, giving her the attention she craved.

"Have you had a good time?" Elsa asked the baby, her voice trembling just enough for him to pick up on it. "Hm? Have you had a good day with Daddy, India?" She kissed her cold cheeks and then raised her eyes to look at Chris.

He stared back at her, completely missing his cue.

"What have you been up to?" Elsa addressed the baby again, and finally, he caught on.

"Um..." He swallowed nervously and quickly recounted the details that made a baby's day  – sleep, food, diaper changes and entertainment, ending on when she had last napped and eaten.

"That sounds like you had a great time, little girl!" Elsa bounced her on her arm, clearly trying to make sure that India didn't notice the tension between them. India was bashfully cuddling with her, leaning her head against her mother's shoulder, her hand fondly on her chest. Elsa cuddled her back, leaning her own head against her baby's, before she finally looked up again and said quietly. "Hello Chris."

"Hi." He attempted a smile he didn't feel like smiling, and she didn't smile back. He realized that the system of cues between them was already broken; it had worked as long as there was the assumption that they were in love. He didn't yet know what this was. It was so weird to think of his wife as a stranger. Then again, he was sure she didn't think she knew him any more, either. "So, um..." He lifted the diaper bag. "How are we going to do this?"

"Becky is going to take her home," Elsa said. "I think you just said she's almost ready for a nap?"

"I was... I was actually wondering if I could pick her up and take her afterwards," Chris said quickly. He had to try.

"That's not what we said before."

"We didn't say anything other than that you needed a babysitter for Friday night... so we babysat," Chris said. "We haven't talked about now, or next week."

"I'd rather do that in there," Elsa said, indicating the counseling office with an incline of her head. She turned and walked back to her seat.

Chris trudged after her, feeling immediately miserable. Now that he'd had India, having to lose her again so quickly without knowing when he would see her next seemed impossible to bear.

"Hello Becky," he greeted Elsa's friend. She and Elsa had met a year ago, when he'd been jetting around the world on the Avengers press tour. Chris had been glad that Elsa was making her own friends in London and didn't just stay at home with India, waiting for him. But of course now Becky gave off a rather hostile vibe, and he decided to ignore it. "Thanks for coming along." He reached out and shook her hand. "And for taking India while we talk, I appreciate it."

"Um... okay?" Becky looked at Elsa for clues how to react. Chris' behavior seemed to have a bit of a disarming effect, and she shook his hand properly before letting it go. "Don't mention it."

"Can I help you with that?" Chris asked as he dropped the diaper bag and sat down beside India and Elsa. Elsa was trying to get the jacket off the squirming baby.

"Yeah, um... hello honey, will you hold still for just a moment," Elsa said. "Then you can go off to bounce."

Chris reached over and helped unzip India's jacket, and took down her cap. The situation was so miserable, to be in this room with his wife and child with no mode of communication. It was clear that Elsa had also brought Becky along as a back-up, because she didn't want to be alone with Chris, and that hurt, as if he was this horrible monster that would lash out at her at the slightest provocation. Chris wished so hard for Tom to be here it nearly made him sick.

But of course that had not been possible. Elsa had specifically requested that she was not to see them together just yet. The break-up still hurt too much. Curiously, it was easier for her to talk to Tom at the moment – Tom had mentioned she had actually stayed for a cup of tea on Friday, which Chris attributed to nothing but Tom's outstanding compassion and patience. But she was obviously still expecting nothing but new pain from Chris, and seeing him and Tom together, happy, while she was still grappling with the loss of her husband and their future together was just too much. He'd understood that. He understood that he was supposed to be the bad guy in this piece, but he was getting so immensely tired of that role.

"Can I hold her until she has to leave?" Chris asked, the impending reality of having to let his baby go again so soon pressing on his heart with unbearable force.

Elsa gave India another hug and then actually handed her over. Chris let her stand on his thighs, literally feeling the thumbscrews around his heart wind tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

Eventually, India strained to be back in her mother's lap, and he handed her back and got up, unable to just sit still and bear it. He walked away from the situation, to the other side of the room, and stared sightlessly out into the gray November day. How fitting that it had been sunny and gorgeous this morning, and now the sky looked as if it was about to cry.

Before he had left, Tom had gone down on one knee before him, took off his leather bracelet and put it on Chris' wrist. "I want you to have this," he'd said. "I want you to remember that you're not alone and that I believe in you, even when I can’t be there."

"But it's yours," Chris had protested. "I want you to wear it."

"You can give it back to me when you have yours," Tom had said, effectively rendering moot Chris' silent plan to let getting a second one slide until Tom had forgotten about it. "Please, Chris. I'm really rather nervous about today."

"You are?"

"You're meeting your wife again for the first time since we've come together. Your wife, whom you have a child with. Of course I'm nervous. Terrified." He had paused. Chris could see the emotions chasing each other across his face. "I can't lose you again."

"You won't." He'd leaned forward to kiss him, and then let him put the bracelet on him. If he was to wear it to assure Tom, he told himself, that was okay.

And now he caught himself turning it listlessly around his own wrist, over and over and over again, letting the bracelet be the presence and comfort he needed from someone else and thought that on the whole, Tom was too fucking clever for his own good.

"Chris," Elsa suddenly said behind him, and he started violently, having not heard her coming closer. He swiveled around. "It's almost time for Becky to leave. Do you want to say goodbye to India?" She lifted the baby on her arm, who let herself topple forward against Chris' chest.

He caught her, the thumbscrews around his heart back in full force. "Give me at least a date," he said tonelessly. "You can't just take her without at least giving me a date when I will see her next."

"Chris, let's talk about it with the counselor, I don't want to..."

"I'm not letting her leave until I know," he said, quietly insistent. "Can you bring her tomorrow? Can we pick her up? Can I pick her up? I can send Tom if that's easier, or you can send Becky, I don't care. Please. I'm not above begging, but I swear to you, if I don't know, I will walk out of here with her right now, so god help me."

She took a step back and studied him, and he thought he detected a glimmer of... pride? in her eyes. "I can bring her tomorrow after her nap," she said.

"Morning or afternoon?"

"Afternoon."

"That's too late. Bring her before, she can sleep over at ours or there's just too little of her day left with us."

There was a calculating expression on her face for just a moment. "When will I get her back? Can you babysit until Monday around six?"

Chris shrugged. "If you don't mind picking her up on set."

"I don't." Her stance relaxed, she exhaled and let her shoulders fall. "Damn, Chris."

"I know. This is completely insane. It shouldn't be that way."

"No." She shook her head. "It shouldn't." She stroked over her daughter's head. "Hey _cariña_ , did you hear? Back to Daddy's tomorrow. Yay!"

"Maybe one day," Chris said urgently. "Maybe... maybe it doesn't have to be this way?"

"Not there yet," she said. "Not for a while."

 

* * *

 

"Are you sure I'm not imposing?"

"You're not. Come on in." Steve opened the door for Tom and let him in.

"Are you really sure. I wouldn't want to..."

"Shut up," Steve said jovially. "Luke's in the kitchen. Give that to me." He took Tom's garment bag with tonight's tuxedo and the bag with his shoes. "We're always having a snack before we go out for a function. You've just come at the right time. Come on."

Tom found himself with Steve's hand between his shoulder blades, gently moving him along, unable to back out.

Steve and Luke lived in a high rise in the loft, with a beautiful view over London and a rather modern interior. The door to the kitchen swung on restaurant hinges, and Tom had to duck through rather quickly to not be hit.

"Our guest has arrived," Steven announced.

"Hi Tom!" Luke put down the knife he'd been cutting tomatoes with, quickly dried his hands and greeted him with a quick hug. "Good to see you. Have a glass of wine."

"Oh... um... what are we having?" Tom asked, scooting onto one of the stools. Steven poured a generous glass of white wine for him and set it before him.

"Just some essentials, bread, cheese, fruit, some veg, garnish if you want some." Luke winked at him. "Try the wine with the gouda."

"You certainly live in style," Tom said in a complementary tone.

"Thanks." Luke finished his cutting and joined Steve and Tom at the breakfast bar. "Enjoy." He clinked his glass with Tom.

The wine was tart yet rich and an excellent fit with the black bread, cheese, and grapes. Tom found a freshly steamed artichoke and some dip pushed his way, and they picked it apart in companionable silence.

"So – heard from him yet?" Luke asked.

Tom shook his head. "He must still be in the middle of the session," he said. He sucked the soft flesh of the artichoke off its leaf and chewed it thoughtfully. "It makes me sick," he concluded. "Thank you for having me."

"Don't mention it," Luke said

"He'll be calling, though?"

"Maybe," Tom said, his stomach churning unpleasantly. "Either way I won't be able to pick up. They'll be finished by the time we arrive at Grosvernor House and I won't be able to get away while we greet the guests."

"Is he going to come to the reception later?" Luke asked "I did get him a pass."

"That's super nice, but I don't know. He said he's going to let Elsa decide whether she wants to spend some time and talk."

"I wouldn't be worried," Steve said. "I've seen the way he looks at you. That boy is not going to go back to his wife. "

"I don't really worry about that," Tom said. "Which is probably an awful thing to say – shouldn't he want to go back to her, for India's sake alone?"

"Oh, didn't you say you had the baby over?" Luke steered the conversation into a different direction. "How did that go?"

"Great!" Tom enthused, spreading some cheese on a cracker. "And really strange at the same time. She's super cute, though. When she's not completely inconsolable for two hours at a time because the cruel world has left her with just me."

Luke winced. "Not an auspicious start."

"It got much better once Chris was back from work," Tom said. "They love each other so much." He fell silent once more, the dichotomy of him missing and worrying about Chris as his partner and the reality of Chris being a married man with a family he should really be with lending a certain poignancy to his feelings.

"Did she like all the things you bought for her, though?" Steve asked. He and Luke had helped erect the baby furniture the week before and had been the calm in the storm that was Tom's family flipping out over him being with Chris.

"I think so. Chris said it was a good sign that she was just talking to herself when she woke up this morning. I have a baby phone in my bedroom now." Tom grimaced and hit his forehead with his hand. "What is this life I'm living? She needed a diaper change at four in the morning and I got up to make her a bottle. I mean, who is this bloke?" The strangeness of the whole experience suddenly hit him full force and he started to laugh at himself. "If this is some sort of parallel universe, I'd like to know."

"I'd be more worried if you took it all in stride," Luke said. "Steve, pour him some more wine."

"I mean I deal with it all when she's there," Tom delved into it. "And it kind of works. Chris is so super good with her, though, I could just watch him with her all day. When there's an opening, I pretend to know what I'm doing and just step in, and he lets me. Most of all, _she_ lets me most of the time. She's kind of giving Chris those looks though. I didn't know babies that age could be that expressive. She's certainly been born with the whole set of emotions intact."

"What kind of looks?" Steve asked.

"A bit like: _Really? Who is this bloke? I can see it makes you happy when I play along so okay, I'm trying this. But just so you know, I'm not convinced_. And I'm such a doofus with all the contraptions. Put on her first nappy the wrong way around. Got her head stuck in the onesie. Nearly didn't get the pushchair expanded this morning. Then forgot a buckle when I lifted her out. Feeling really silly, let me tell you."

"You're just catching up," Luke said.

"Yeah, probably, but... it feels weird. Like I'm filling in a space that's already been taken. There is no space for _your daddy's boyfriend_ in mother-father-child. And she knows it, too." He took a sip of his wine. "It's super awkward. It really is. We're all trying to make it work, but.." He shuddered. "It's strange."

"The offer stands, you know," Luke said. "If you two need a night off, we'd be happy to babysit."

"Your schedules are about as crazy as ours," Tom laughed, but then he saw the look that was passed between them. "Wait. What was that look?"

Luke shrugged innocently. "Just kind of... two blokes in a gay relationship, not too much chance to hang out with babies, you know? It's a bit sad."

"What he said," Steve nodded. "For some reason people seem to think that you don't want kids just because you're with a man. And it's all fair and square for the first few years because you try yourself out and figure out what's going on with yourself, and then with your partner and all that... truth be told, if one of us could have them, we'd probably already have kids. But we hardly know any couples with kids, so we never get to have much contact and... I miss it." He shrugged.

"We're secretly super jealous that you get it all, built-in, so to speak," Luke admitted. "That's the whole truth of it."

"Oh." Tom hadn't looked at it from that perspective yet. "But she's not my child."

"If you guys stay together, you'll be there when she grows up," Luke insisted. "You'll be there for her first step, and first word, or at least second or third. You'll care for her when she's sick, you'll clean her up and feed her and sing to her and teach her about Shakespeare and do all the whacky things with her you want to do with your children. You're going to be a part of her childhood forever. How is all of that not being a parent?"

"But she already has a Daddy and a Mommy," Tom said, fighting his ground. "And they're really doing a great job with her."

"And now she's got a Tom, too," Luke said quietly. "Lucky you. And lucky little India."

"Now you guys are making me feel bad about making this so complicated!" Tom said, scratching his head.

"It probably is complicated," Luke allowed. "But it's also very lucky. That Chris wants you in her life, and that Elsa is okay with you being around her, too. It's all very grown-up and very, very lucky."

It was quiet around the table for a moment, as they picked through their snacks and everyone was immersed in their own thoughts.

"I always thought I'd have kids," Tom finally said quietly. "My own. I guess just accepting India feels like... like I'm giving up on that. I get to take care of someone else's child, but I won't have my own. Like when I fully let her into my heart, I'm betraying the children I should have."

"That's deep," Steve allowed.

"Sorry if I'm not making sense."

"I wouldn't be so negative, though," Luke said. "Chris is so crazy about India. I'd be surprised if he didn't want more children."

"Not like I can have them," Tom said morosely. "Sorry, guys, this is veering off into some really dark territory."

"It's true, though," Steve said. "It's sad to think that you're so in love with someone and you can't have children together." He reached over and squeezed Luke's hand. "So infertile straight couples are allowed and expected to be heartbroken about it, but we aren't? Unfair and unrealistic, if you ask me."

"Wow." It felt good to have his own, so far very vague, feelings validated. "Listen, I promise I'll talk to Chris about you two babysitting from time to time. I'm sure we'll be happy for a break when we have her non-stop until Christmas." He didn't miss the delighted grin and hand squeeze the other two men shared and immediately felt better about having made their day – with a situation that he himself was still struggling with, no less. "Having said that – is there any pudding by any chance? I feel like some coffee and something really sweet."

"Wouldn't have invited you if there wasn't," Luke said. "Coffee and something sweet, coming right up."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Elsa meet Dr. Casey and have their first counseling session. Some surprising things come to light, and Chris is being very firm about something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm home sick and coughing, so I have time to write. Having finished this, I really needed to get it off my desktop, that's why there are two updates in close succession.
> 
> Having said that, I'm blown away by the reception the last chapter has had. Just letting you know that every hit and kudos and comment honestly makes my day.
> 
> Thank you so much for being along for the ride. <3

Dr. Casey's office was light and spacious; white, green and orange the predominant colors. Some tasteful watercolors adorned the whitewashed walls and diaphanous curtains let in as much light as possible while still creating an intimate atmosphere. There was a tasteful office area held in birch wood in the corner, lit by a single, warm light, but Chris and Elsa had been seated on a white sofa in front of the windows, with Dr. Casey in a comfortable chair in front of them. She was in her late forties, Chris guessed, with shoulder-length black curls, and kept a clip-board on her lap that she occasionally jotted a few notes on.

She'd greeted both of them with a warm handshake and invited them in, and Chris found that he and Elsa would move to the furthest ends of the sofa, which, he assumed, told Dr. Casey about all she needed to know about the state of their relationship.

She had intelligent, kind green eyes, he noticed, and smiled at him over the rims of of her reading glasses. Somehow, that look made him relax a little. At least she didn't seem to come into a session with the fixed idea that it was always the husband's fault.

"So," she said. "First of all, let me tell you that I know that coming to couples counseling is very often the last straw for many couples, and that it takes quite a bit of courage to pick up the phone to ask for help. So before we begin, let me commend you on taking that step in the first place." She nodded at both of them, and then checked her notes. "Elsa, you were the one who called. Do you want to start by telling me again why you are here?"

Elsa nodded, clasping her hands in her lap in a nervous gesture. "I guess I should start at the beginning," she said. "We've been married for two years, and we have a little daughter, India. She's six months old. We both work in the entertainment industry, and Chris is just now doing a movie here in London. He's been complaining that he has trouble concentrating for a while, and there were a lot of long hours coming his way, so India and I went to see my parents in Spain to let him do his work." She shook her head. "Two weeks ago, we talked on the phone, and..." She swallowed. "…and he told me that he was staying over with a friend to help him learn his lines and... it just sounded off." She shot Chris a quick look. "And it turns out they had... slept together the night before."

"How did that make you feel?" Dr. Casey asked.

"I was... I don't know. I don't think I really understood what it would mean," Elsa said. She rubbed her hands. "I think I only got it the next day when he called and said he wouldn't come back, that he was going to stay with Tom."

To the counselor's credit, the revelation that it was a man he was involved with didn't even make her raise her brow. She just made a note. Chris guessed it said "Tom". 

"What happened then?" she asked Elsa.

"It was horrible," Elsa exhaled. "I couldn't believe it. I thought we'd been happy... and I was so far away, I couldn't do anything. The Monday after, he called to say that he would move in with him... that was when I started to be really angry."

"Why about that made you so angry?" Dr. Casey asked.

Elsa shrugged. "That he couldn't wait. That he didn't even give us a chance to save our marriage, or couldn't wait until India and I came back. It just hurt so much."

"Is that still the situation?" Dr. Casey addressed Chris. "Are you still living with that new person?"

"Yes," Chris said.

"Just trying to get the facts," she said. "Do you want to continue, Elsa?"

"I was so angry that I decided I wouldn't let him see India any more," she said. "I was thinking about moving away with her without telling him where."

"But you are now here," Dr. Casey pointed out. "What changed?"

"His stupid boyfriend called me," Elsa said.

"Tom tried to contact you?"

"Yes. They've been best friends for years, so I know who he is," Elsa explained.

"That's interesting." Dr. Casey's pen flew over her board. "I'm sorry, please continue. He called you and...?"

"… asked me some general stuff about India. If it was okay if Chris brought her along to his flat. If it was okay if he was around her. Stuff like that. Tom's an idiot but he's about the sweetest man you can imagine." She rolled her eyes. "So of course I said yes. That man wouldn't hurt a fly. He'd probably apologize to it if he touched it by accident."

Chris had to smile at that very apt description of his lover.

"Now that is an interesting development, that you all knew each other beforehand," Dr. Casey pointed out. "How did that call change your relationship with Chris?"

"He mailed me the next day," Elsa said. "And it was a really sweet letter about what an idiot he was and how stupid he was behaving."

"Chris, what made you write that letter?" Dr. Casey asked. "If you don't mind my asking?"

"Um, getting my head screwed on straight," he said. "Perspective."

"Can you go into details?"

He furrowed his brow. "Basically what I wrote in that letter," he said. "We'd... that day before was really hard, we... Tom... his family is not happy about him dating me, and they really... they were so abusive to him. To both of us. It made me realize that Elsa was dealing so calmly and rationally with the whole situation and I was treating her horribly."

"Why do you think you did?"

"Um..." He gave Elsa a furtive glance and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Cause I knew I was hurting her and I couldn't deal with it," he said.

There was a pause, and then Dr. Casey said: "Elsa, when you hear him say that, how does that make you feel?"

"Sad," she said. She looked up at him. "You could just stop, you know?" she said.

"I don't know how." He immediately felt that twist in his stomach again.

"What keeps you from stopping?" Dr. Casey asked.

"That I'm so in love with Tom," he said, desperation shooting through his whole body. "And that automatically means I'm hurting her."

Elsa sat up, and crossed her arms.

"Can you tell me a little bit about how it all happened?" Dr. Casey said. "So you've been best friends for a while, Elsa said. What changed so you fell in love?"

"They always were," Elsa said in an accusatory tone.

"We need to hear it from Chris," Dr. Casey explained. "In here, it's important that you each listen to what the other has to say. We all have ideas in our heads what the other person's motivations might be. But research has shown that what we perceive to be the truth is usually informed more by our own history and background than what is actually going on inside the other person. And the only way to figure it out is if we listen to what that other person has to say, at least once."

"She's not completely wrong," Chris said. "But it's not like we did it on purpose."

"What do you mean?" Dr. Casey asked patiently.

Chris stared at his fingers. "We met three years ago, on a movie we were doing together. I have to say I've never been with a man before Tom, and neither has he. So we were really clicking, but I guess... there just wasn't a frame of reference for what was going on."

"And now there is?"

Chris shrugged. "I think we just got so tired of feeling so miserable without each other," he said, relieved that he had just said it. "It all came together that night and then it kind of exploded." He felt himself smile. "And now we can't stop."

"You were miserable with me?" Elsa said, hurt.

He immediately felt cornered and looked at Dr. Casey. "That's not what I said," he murmured.

"What did you say?" Elsa asked sharply. "You keep telling me we were happy, and now you're telling me you were miserable without Tom!"

"Both feelings can exist at the same time," Dr. Casey intervened. "Chris, you said you've never been involved with a man before. Was that the first time you and Tom came together?"

"Yes." He felt very vulnerable. "And I talked to Elsa right away. I don't want to lie, and I don't want to be untruthful. But I can't ignore how I feel about Tom, either!"

"Obviously," Elsa seethed.

"Elsa, this seems to make you very angry," Dr. Casey addressed her. "Can you tell us why?"

"Because I feel betrayed," she said. "Like he's been lying to me the whole time we were together!"

"Were you lying?" Dr. Casey asked Chris.

"No!" It made him angry to hear the same accusations over and over again. "I've told you before, I married you because I wanted to be married to you. And we were happy, and there is India, and that's all good! I still care for you!"

"But you don't love me any more," she accused him. "Now you love someone else."

"I don't know how to stop it!" Chris said, completely frustrated. "And I don't want to."

They stared at each other, both their chests heaving.

"I'm in love with Tom," Chris said. "And that's good. It's good for me." It felt so good to stand up to how he felt.

"Why?" Elsa whimpered.

"You keep asking me these questions, and I know if I answer them I hurt you even more," Chris said. "I want to stop hurting you."

"Can you answer her question, though?" Dr. Casey said.

"Can you please repeat it?" Chris said, looking at Elsa.

"Why is it better for you to be with Tom than it is to be with me?"

He blew out a breath and shook his head, desperately trying to think of what to say. He was suddenly glad they were here, in this safe environment, where Elsa could ask all her questions and whatever he said, there was a third person who would help her deal with what would come up. Else was protected, and so was he. 

"Elsa, he just gets me," he then said. "And I get him."

She shrugged as an indication that she didn't quite know what he meant.

"It is so hard to explain," he said.

"It's because he's a man," she assumed. "And I'm not."

"You keep going for the easy answers," he said. "To be completely honest, yes, I enjoy making love with him very much, I guess that's where you're going with _he's a man_. And I probably wouldn't want to touch him if I wasn't attracted to his body. But even more than that, I'm attracted to him _as a_ _person_. If he was a woman, I guess it would be the same way."

"So what does he have that I don't?"

"Stop putting yourself down like that!" Chris said. "You keep trying to want to find some flaw in you. You are perfect the way you are."

"But not perfect for you," Elsa concluded, her voice trembling.

"No," he said as gently as he possibly could. "As it turns out, he is. And that's not your fault, and you have no idea how sorry I am that I'm doing this to you."

"Can you tell me what makes Tom so perfect for you?" Dr. Casey asked.

"He's..." Chris spread his hands and thought for a moment. "I only really realized this when he kept talking about it, but I think it's... when you're a man, you're supposed to act in a certain way, and you're supposed to be a certain way, and I've been that. In our relationship." He indicated Elsa and himself. "But when I'm with Tom, I can be anything I want. When you and me were together, I could only be half of me – what everyone expected of a man. What you expected of me as your man, and your husband. And when I'm with Tom, I get to be so much more. It just feels really good."

"You want to be a woman?" Now Elsa seemed completely taken aback.

"No!" He rolled his eyes with frustration. "I just want to be everything I can."

She laughed. "I don't know what to think of that," she said.

"Huh," Chris made and leaned back in his seat. The situation suddenly felt lighter, Elsa wasn't aggressively digging into him and making him feel cornered any more.

"Elsa, what do you think when he says that?" Dr. Casey asked.

"I don't know," she laughed. "This is strange."

"Strange how?"

She gave Chris a calculating look. "He sounds like a woman," she said.

"You know," he said. "I never noticed before just how judgmental you can be."

"Okay, before we keep going here, I would like to draw your attention to something that I've observed a few times now," Dr. Casey interrupted what threatened to turn into a name calling argument. They both turned to her. "Elsa, I've noticed that you are very keen on having some burning questions answered by Chris. Would you say that's correct?"

Elsa nodded. "Yes."

"However, when he tries to answer them, you often don't let him finish his thoughts. Do you have any idea why that might be?"

"Because what he says is mostly nonsense," she said without hesitation.

Dr. Casey just let that statement stand in the room for a while.

It was such a breath of fresh air. Chris leaned back and he smiled, so many things starting to make sense now.

"You're smiling," Dr. Casey picked up on it right away. "Do you want to tell us why?"

"I'm smiling because so far, I thought that... no. I thought we'd been fine," he said to Elsa. "I really thought we had a good relationship, and we were happy, but now I just realized, no, there were cracks, and there were things that weren't quite working. What you just said..." He blew out a laugh. "I mean, that was really kind of mean, don't you think? What I say is mostly nonsense? Do you really believe that?"

She was confused. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"But it's a really hurtful thing to say," Chris pointed out. "I mean, why keep asking me all these questions when all you want to hear is what you already think you know? If you ask all those questions, why don't you want to hear the answers?"

Elsa looked perplexed.

"You don't have to answer that right now," Dr. Casey said. "Maybe the answer is too personal to be revealed right this minute, but when you go home, it might come to you. Don't try to hasten it."

"Sometimes what he says scares me," Elsa said plainly.

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't say..." She struggled for words. That she found it difficult to express herself in English suddenly was a clear sign for how close to home the question hit. "Sometimes he says things I don't understand and then there is this distance. If I don't let him say his words he can't... then I feel closer."

The implications of this, Chris realized, were absolutely tragic, and they hit him like a hammer. If what Elsa just said was true, then they'd been talking past each other for quite some time. He had been indulging her by not talking about anything that made her uncomfortable, thinking it was an expression of love, and she – consciously or not – had been training him to keep his responses to a certain set of values that fit into what she expectedof him.

It suddenly made crystal clear why he enjoyed being with Tom so much. There were no restrictions to what he could think, do or say, on the contrary, sometimes he felt that the more daring he was in exploring new territory, the livelier and more excited about it Tom became. This was a game changer, for him and his relationship with Tom, and for him and his relationship with Elsa.

"Elsa," he said softly. "Are you sure that the man that I would be if you weren't trying to change me is actually the man you want to be with?"

She looked at him with her beautiful brown eyes and her voice was shaking when she said, "No."

"And see, that man is who Tom wants. Every part of me. Everything. He loves me for what I like about me," he said gently. "And that is why he makes me so happy."

Elsa just shook her head slowly, but she didn't say anything more.

"That's a lot to digest," Dr. Casey said. "Shall we take a short break?"

 

* * *

 

"So where do we go from here?" Chris asked when they had settled down again, and he looked first at Elsa, and then at Dr. Casey.

"That depends on what each one of you wants," Dr. Casey answered. "There is no certain set of rules. The answer differs from couple to couple, from individual to individual." She smiled. "You were both so eager to get into the meat of the conflict that I haven't had much time to explain what I do," she said. "Which is admirable and shows, in my opinion, how much you each still care about each other and your relationship."

"What do other couples do?" Chris ventured. "Just to get an idea."

"There are all kinds of possibilities. Some couples stay together and married, even though one of the spouses is having a same-sex partner."

"No," Elsa said. "No."

"Like I said, it's one of many options. Many divorce. Some never see each other again because one individual has been too hurt by the other's actions. There are straight spouses who help their gay spouses with their new discoveries. Many try to stay friends, or at least friendly. And in your case, you always need to consider your child. If you do separate, you will have to decide who gets custody, or if you both want to parent and share parental rights. There are a lot of decisions to be made."

"This is all going too fast," Elsa said. "From the beginning, it's all been going too fast. I can't keep up. Is it all good what he's done now?" Her hands cramped around the pillow she was holding in her lap.

"No," Chris said. He found himself reach over and take Elsa's hand, and was so startled how small and fragile it was in his. "It's not. I still didn't keep my vows, and I am still so very sorry that I have hurt you – and keep hurting you."

She let her hand rest in his for a moment, and then pulled it back. "I don't know how to move on from here," she said. "I feel so... stupid."

"Why?" Dr. Casey asked softly.

"Because I feel that I should've seen what was coming," Elsa said. "Because I knew how they looked at each other sometimes, and I know I've kind of always wondered."

"You were not surprised when you found out," Chris acknowledged.

"No." She shrugged. "I guess I thought it was funny. I never thought... I never thought it would turn serious."

"When a relationship dies," Dr. Casey said, "we often have the same reactions as if a person dies. The stages of grief are basically the same – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. The bad news is, there is no shortcut to acceptance. The good news is, there can be acceptance at some point, and moving on to something or someone else.There is a way to move through this and survive it."

"I miss you," Elsa said and looked at Chris. "And it hurts me that you don't miss me the same way."

Chris didn't know what to say and decided on the truth. "You're right, I don't," he simply said. "But I'm so tired of not feeling what I'm supposed to feel."

"What do you feel?" Dr. Casey asked.

"Regret," Chris said. "Like Elsa, I wish I had seen it before. I wish I could have spared her all this hurt."

"You wish you didn't have me in your life, just Tom."

"That's not what I said," Chris stated clearly. He was starting to get exhausted and felt washed out. "Please stop telling me I don't mean what I'm saying." It was about the last constructive thing he would be capable of today, he could already tell.

"How can we finish this session so you can go home and not feel abandoned?" Dr. Casey asked. "And I mean both of you. Do you want to come back?"

"Yes," Chris said immediately.

Elsa also nodded. "At least we're talking," she said.

"I'm very glad you find this is useful," Dr. Casey said.

"I'm leaving for Romania next weekend," Elsa went on. "I've got a role in a movie and I'll be gone for six weeks. But I would like to keep up the counseling. I read on your webpage that you do counseling by skype?"

Dr. Casey nodded. "Do you want to come in in person this coming week?"

They kicked some dates around and decided to meet another two times while Elsa was still in London.

"We need to talk about India," Chris then said. "You scared me so much by threatening that I would never see her again."

"Didn't you see that I tried to be good with you and her today?" Elsa said. "It's hard."

"It is hard, but she is also my daughter, and you can't... you just can't ever do that again." His heart still hurt just thinking about it.

"I was so angry and I wanted to hurt you back," she said.

"That worked a little too well," Chris said.

"I already said I'll bring her by tomorrow," Elsa said defensively.

"It can't be that I'm asking you for permission to see India," Chris stated clearly. "I want joined custody. We'll both care for India. I need to hear that from you before we leave today, and I want to know when I'll see her next week. I can't be begging every time."

"What will happen when you're in Romania, Elsa?" Dr. Casey asked. "Are you taking India with you?"

"Chris and Tom will take her," she said. "I need some time alone to think, and the shoot will be very hard. I won't have enough time for her, and we're shooting in many different locations."

"Chris, did you know that?"

"We talked about it," Chris said. "But I was still afraid she would change her mind if I said something stupid today."

"Our time almost draws to a close," Dr. Casey said. "I would say we talk about what possibilities you have for your daughter the next time we meet."

"I want to know when I will see her after Monday," Chris insisted. "Or I'm not leaving."

Elsa squirmed.

"Elsa, that is the one thing that I'm not going to compromise on," he said. "It can't be that you decide if I've behaved well enough to see my daughter!"

"Don't you think I'm sad that I'm not going to see her for six weeks?" she exploded. "That I want to spend as much time with her as I can!"

But this was something that Chris just could not budge on, not after what she had put him through. "She also needs to get used to living with Tom and me," he insisted. "I want her every other day so it's not so hard on her when you suddenly leave. She will miss you either way! Don't make it so hard on her, please."

"If I let you have her, then what will I have left?" she asked.

"You," Dr. Casey said. "And from what I can see, that is a whole lot."

 

* * *

 

It was very cold and had started to snow by the time they stepped out of the building.

"Do you want me to wait with you until your cab arrives?" Chris asked.

"Isn't Tom waiting for you?"

"Even if he was I'd still want to make sure you are safely in the cab," Chris said. "Come on, Elsa. Allow me that last bit of decency."

She sighed, and then nodded curtly. "Okay."

"Thank you."

She shivered beside him and fluffed up her shawl. And for some reason, the next thing he knew, he had wrapped her into his arms and held her impossibly tight, his chin pressed to her hair. She hugged him back, desperately clinging to him in the cold wind.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her, still, because he did. He wanted to tell her how incredibly, terribly sorry he was for what he was doing to her. But the hug in itself already was too much, he felt it in his bones. It was as if he was desperately trying to keep a door open that was slowly and inevitable closing on him, on Elsa, on their relationship.

The cab arrived, his clue to let her go. And still they clung to each other for just a few heartbeats more. He knew when he let her go he would want to stroke her cheek and lift her chin and smile at her, as he'd always done. And it would break both their hearts, because he would not kiss her afterwards

She finally pushed away, not looking at him. "Goodnight, Chris," she said.

"Goodnight. Tell India I love her."

She nodded curtly and he heard her sniff. "I will."

And a moment later, she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality whacks the happy couple over the head as Tom realizes he's bitten off a bit more than he can chew and Chris scrambles to justify the decisions he's made during counseling with Elsa.

It was close to midnight when Tom finally left the after-event party. The evening had been a rave success, and he could have easily stayed longer, but the sweet promise of having someone waiting for him at home and wanting to make sure that someone was okay finally drew him away.

Once in the warm confines of the cab, he loosened his bow tie and unbuttoned his shirt's top button. He took out his phone and turned it on, rereading the message that Chris had sent him hours earlier, after his counseling session.

"Enjoy your event," it read. "I know you've been looking forward to it. We're all still alive. If I'm learning one thing from this counseling thing it's how incredibly lucky I am to have you. So lucky. Can't wait to have you back. I love you. Chris."

Tom drew a deep breath, his chest expanding with a sudden feeling of happiness and gratitude. If his lover had to go into couples counseling with his wife, getting a message like that as a result was probably the very best outcome he could have wished for.

He hit return and typed a quick message: "I'm in the cab now. Should be home in about 30 min. Can't wait to see you. Love you so much. Tom." He could have called but thought if Chris had happened to fall asleep, he didn't exactly want to wake him. And whatever they needed to talk about, he didn't want to do it on the phone.

 

* * *

  
When he opened the door to his flat, it was quiet. He turned on the light in the hallway and smiled; a single red rose was lying on the floor, pointing towards the door. He quickly hung up his coat and got out of his shoes, then picked up the rose and opened the door to the living room. There was another one just one step in, and another; a whole line, to be precise. He picked them up, one by one, until he reached the sofa, on which Chris lay, asleep, in nothing but his black silk morning gown, and surrounded by more roses. The room – and Chris – was lit by just a few candles on the table, which also held a plate with a few delicacies to eat and a bottle of whiskey with two tumblers, one of which had already been used.

Tom observed the picture, Chris' angelic expression, his arms behind his head, and the partially open morning gown revealing some of his well-muscled chest. It was fairly warm in the room, no doubt so Chris could present himself like this without the need for a blanket or warmer clothes.

He must have waited for Tom and then fallen asleep, and suddenly Tom felt incredibly exhausted. The excitement of the day with India, Luke's call, Chris leaving for his counseling, the very long evening greeting and speaking to people, presenting a program, trying to get the right people to talk to each other afterwards, it just all burned and crashed over his head. He could see that Chris had been waiting for him, but the whole seduction scene was suddenly too much, he was too burnt out to rise to yet another challenge right now. He just desperately wanted a moment of peace and quiet, just one moment to figure out how he felt before he was pushed into the next thing.

Aware that Chris might wake up any moment, Tom still passed him, shedding his jacket as he went, stripping one piece of clothing after the other on his way to the bathroom, until he was finally under the shower, naked, and turned on the water, groaning with relief when it hit him.

He leaned against the tile with his elbows, hiding his head in his hands while the water pounded at him, finding himself caught up in a wave of grief and woe that he could not quite place. He almost wished he could be alone with himself and his thoughts and worries and just not speak to anyone about anything, not even Chris. It was suddenly all too much, the complications, the responsibilities, having to manage so many other people apart from himself, bending over backwards to accommodate everyone. Why did he have to fall in love with a man with so much baggage? Why did he have to fall in love with a man in the first place?

He moaned out his frustration and felt very much like punching something. He didn't want to deal with any of this any longer, didn't want to have to keep changing, wanted his family back, wanted his much simpler life back in which his only worry was himself and his career and whether the catering service delivered on his favorite custard during lunch or not. He wanted the unspecific romantic pining back and an equally unspecific future which was littered with images of a woman by his side who would cheer for him at premieres and unspecific future children that would cling to his legs when he came home to his wife and a home cooked meal. He didn't want this. The reality of a man he could not admit in public to being in love with and his complicated family life, his own family turning away from him in shame, and a future that was nothing like he had imagined it.

Eventually, he got to washing himself, rinsing his hair under the pounding spray, and then turned off the shower. It was suddenly very quiet when he stepped out and toweled himself dry, his eye falling onto India's changing table on the opposite wall.

"She's not even mine," he groaned, unable to get a grip on his frustration. "What the hell am I doing?"

He felt very much like the sorcerer's apprentice, having invited all these ghosts in, he could not get rid of them any more, and there was not enough room for him to breathe.

He trudged back into the bedroom, collecting one by one the clothes he had shed before, and putting them aside for dry cleaning. Now that he was freshly showered, they smelled worn and sweaty, and he was fairly glad to be able to just put them into a plastic bag and be done with the evening. He slipped into a fresh pair of pajama bottoms, a comfortable shirt and thick wool jumper. A pair of comfortable thick socks completed his outfit. Tom exhaled, feeling a lot better.

 

He returned to the living room, where Chris still peacefully slept on the sofa. Tom tiptoed into the kitchen and put on a kettle, then fetched a vase from the pantry. He returned to the living room to collect the roses, putting them on the table for the time being. Then he finally sat down by Chris' side.

For a long while, he contemplated just putting a blanket on him and letting him sleep. Because an evening with just himself and his own thoughts, without new tangles and complications, and news from the counseling that he really didn't want to deal with, sounded so heavenly he could hardly think it. And he knew, once Chris was awake, that he would have to deal with the fallout of said counseling. He already was, he thought, this kind of seduction scene so out of character for both of them, who usually fell into making love just from being together, together being the operative word.

Did he want to deal with this? No. He sighed. But the mere idea of how hurt and confused Chris would be if he woke up on his own in the middle of the night, with Tom in their bed, having not invited him in, made it impossible to go through with that plan.

Tom leaned over him and kissed him gently, as if he was a prince in a fairy tale who woke up his princess from her hundred years long sleep.

"Hey," he said quietly when he could see Chris' eyelids flutter. He took his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Hey sleepyhead."

Chris shifted and groaned, and then opened his eyes. He found it difficult to focus and blinked a few times, but then a sleepy smile appeared on his face.

"Hey."

"Hey, honey." Tom pressed the back of Chris' hand against his cheek. "Did you wait up for me?"

"Huh? What? Oh." Chris wiped his eyes with his other hand. "Oh. Yeah. Looks like I fell asleep, huh? When did you come home?"

"About half an hour ago," Tom said. "You were sleeping so peacefully."

"Oh." Chris relaxed and smiled at him. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

They just looked at each other for a while until Tom laughed softly. "I've missed you."

He leaned forward to kiss Chris and felt his hands against his back, and then he toppled to lie beside him after all, their bodies stretched out against one another, and Chris turning to him, and Tom's hands burying into Chris' hair and his body rising against his lover's when their lips met.

"Oh God," he exhaled into Chris' mouth, and then he didn't say anything any more because his lips and tongue and his heart were too busy loving Chris. He arched against him, feeling Chris' powerful hands at his back, pressing him forward into his embrace and it was the best feeling in the world, to find himself in these arms, being kissed by these lips, feeling that body against his own.

He remembered their second, long night together when he had been grappling so hard with what loving Chris would mean, with all those life-long doubts and fears, and Chris had told him to look into his eyes, and let that be enough.

He was now looking into these eyes, and he felt the love, but he still felt all the earlier conflicting emotions, as well. There was no doubt he wanted to be with this man, and yet... And yet.

"What's up?" Chris asked. "Did you have a good evening?"

"Yeah," Tom said, running his hand through Chris' hair. "Just a lot going through my mind, Chris."

"Wanna share?"

Tom gave him a wry smile. "Honey, you were all set up for some heavy duty seduction here," he said. "Are you sure you want to talk?"

"Just grateful to be with you," Chris said quietly. "You have no idea how much. I wanted to make coming home to me worth your while."

"You're always worth my while." Tom kissed his lover's lips. "That is a lovely outfit but I'm just so exhausted. It's been such a long day."

"I overshot the target, huh?" Chris asked.

Tom inclined his head. "Maybe a little."

"I bought four dozen red roses on my way back from counseling," Chris confided. "I started with one but it didn't seem to be enough."

"Oh honey," Tom shook his head, his heart contracting.

"You know what red roses mean, right?"

"I know." Tom took a deep breath, feeling his body expand towards Chris'. The kettle in the kitchen started to sing. "Want to help me put them into water?"

"I think I better get dressed first," Chris said, and he yawned. "I'm sorry. No comment on the company."

Tom smiled. "I didn't think it was." He rubbed his nose with Chris', kissed him one last time, and then slowly sat up. "Did you bring India back with you?"

"No, Elsa took her. We had a bit of an argument about it, but she's going to bring her by tomorrow for her afternoon nap." He suddenly looked insecure. "If that's okay with you. I'm sorry, I didn't... I just couldn't call and check." He suddenly looked a little lost and afraid.

"I said it was okay to bring her back," Tom said as he watched Chris also sit up.

"And I said I needed a full day with you and only you and I meant it," Chris said, nuzzling up against the side of Tom's face. "And then the whole argument got away from me." He exhaled. "And the panic I would not see her again if I let her go."

"Sweetheart." Tom turned his head. "Wanna stay up all night and talk and see what we end up with?"

"How about pulling a blanket over my head and pretending everything is fine?" Chris asked wryly.

"Or that." Tom placed a gentle kiss against Chris' temple. "I'm super exhausted, too. It was such a long day."

"I hear the kettle," Chris pointed out.

"Yeah, I just needed a last cup of tea... maybe some hobnobs... something sweet."

Chris surveyed the table. "I'll put this away," he offered. "Yours sounds better."

  
* * *

 

Tom heard Chris' socked footsteps coming into the kitchen long before he felt his arms wrap around him from behind. He smiled; this was so familiar now.

"You sure you want tea?" he asked. "I could always get you your cocoa."

"I mainly want you," Chris said quietly. "I don't really care what warm beverage you come with."

"Honey, I've got to be honest," Tom said, leaving the bags to steam in the cups as he turned around in Chris' embrace. "I'm not sure how much more complication I can stand right now."

Chris puffed out a breath. "I'm sorry."

"What happened? I thought you said it went well? Hm?"

"It did." Chris still looked thoughtful and a little sad.

"Okay then. Sofa or recliner?"

"I just want a cuddle, I don't care where," Chris volunteered.

They ended up on the sofa, Tom perched into the corner, one of his legs pulled up against the armrest, and Chris leaning into it, with Tom's other leg across his lap, and a warm blanket over both of them. It was a right tangle, but they found it comfortable, and Chris stretched into another kiss.

"You're so needy tonight," Tom murmured, rubbing Chris' stomach affectionately. He was really settling into the tender atmosphere and the sweet touches. After the almost desperate lovemaking this morning and afternoon, it was a nice change to just enjoy each other's company and take whatever time they needed. "Are you okay?"

Chris took his time finishing the kiss and ended up cuddled into Tom's shoulder. Tom gently scratched his scalp and leaned his cheek against his brow.

"So what's going on?" he asked.

Chris shrugged and didn't answer right away. Tom leaned forward to get his cup and a sip of tea, feeling a lot more settled now, especially with his favorite brew. Yes, it might be a long night, but at least he was in the best company he could think of.

"I think I got cut loose today," Chris finally said.

"Hm?"

"I think... I think we got to a point today where... we got to a point where we could both see that if we were really honest to each other, we wouldn't be a good fit. Not even just because of you, because... because if I was honest to her, I wouldn't be quite the man she wanted to be with. And that was... it was a shock."

"It is," Tom said quietly. "That is... wow. Unexpected."

"I know." Chris rubbed Tom's thigh. "It changes everything, doesn't it?"

"Not sure about everything, Chris. You're still here, and the fact that we kissed still kicked it all loose."

"I know." Chris shook his head. "I spent the whole evening walking around and thinking."

"Walking around where?"

"Back here. From counseling."

"Honey, that's a 20 km walk."

Chris shrugged. "Took me four hours."

"No wonder you're tired!" Tom was shocked. "Why didn't you get a cab, Chris?"

"I told you, I needed time to think, and I think best when I'm on the move."

Since Tom was the same way, there was not much he could argue with. "Still, I wish you would've told me!"

"And have you worried half the night? Nah." Chris shook his head. "I'm a big boy."

"You're also now..." he hesitated. "You're also now with me," he said then. "I want to know this stuff. You can't just... Chris." He exhaled. "Okay. So you walked back all the way from counseling and if I catch you doing it again I'm so going to... Call me, dammit!"

"You were busy," Chris said.

"I shouldn't have been." Now he felt so foolish to have told Chris that he wouldn't be able to pick up the phone. "Send a message to Luke if I'm not available. I don't care."

"But I wanted to be alone, and I wanted to be walking," Chris said. "It's okay. It really is." The idea that Tom was now so worried about him seemed to cheer him up. "Hey."

"Don't hey me," Tom grumbled, still upset. "Chris, I'm really shocked."

"Okay, I promise I won't do it again without telling you," Chris said.

"Okay." Tom blew out a breath. "Dammit, Chris. I know you're a grown man and you can take care of yourself, but..." He ducked his head and kissed him. Hard. "Dammit."

"If this is what I get for misbehaving, I might do it more often." Chris waggled his brows. It made Tom laugh. "Are we good?"

"Yes," Tom acknowledged begrudgingly. "It's okay to want some time to your own, god knows I need it every now and then. But this just frightens me, to think of you out there alone on a cold night like this."

"Okay. I get it." Chris kissed his knuckles. "I really do."

"Uh-huh." Tom scowled at him one last time and then let the case rest. "So..."

"Yeah." Chris settled back against his raised leg again. "Funny, this just makes me feel better."

"Glad to be of service," Tom grumbled.

"I honestly... I honestly worried that this would change everything," Chris said.

"Change what?"

Chris licked his lips. "Elsa and I may have had a breakup down the line either way," he said.

"Did you feel like you were breaking up with her?" Tom asked.

"No, just that I was really missing something," Chris said. "And when we talked during the counseling today, what I said was that you are perfect for me because I get to be everything I can with you."

"You said that?"

'"Yes!"

Tom felt a really stupid grin spread on his face. "Seriously?"

"Yes!" Chris eyed him suspiciously. "You know that!"

Tom shrugged. "Not in so many words." He just couldn't wipe that grin off his face.

"Tom, you need to be... aren't you concerned about what I told you at all?"

"What, that Elsa and you aren't a good match?" Tom asked. "No. Are we a good match?"

"Yes!"

"So why should I worry?"

"Because now you have to deal with me for sure," Chris said.

"And this is supposed to bother me exactly why...?" Okay, there was the whole gay thing and the divorce and the ex wife and the child. He didn't think that was what Chris was going for. "Tell me why it worries you, Chris."

And suddenly Chris grew really quiet. "I'm an idiot."

Tom took another few sips from his cup before he put it back, giving Chris a moment to arrange his thoughts.

"I thought... I know I want to be with you. I know it. But still... this was... a more thorough goodbye than I had expected," Chris said. "It was so final. That's it."

That Chris would grieve the end of his marriage was no surprise to Tom. But he still thought that Chris had not quite arrived at what he wanted to tell him. "Go on, honey, I'm listening," he said.

"Tom, I..." He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I'm really not proud of this."

"It doesn't matter, but not saying it is obviously killing you," Tom said. "So just say it."

"I think I'm a big fraud," Chris said. "I think I'm a complete idiot."

"Just spill it." Tom nudged him with his knee.

Chris gave him a look as if he expected him to be evicted on the spot if he talked. "I've got nothing to go back to," he said hesitantly. "I mean, if this doesn't work, if you and me don't work, I've got nothing to go back to."

"Were you planning on going back to Elsa?" Tom felt his brows crawl up his forehead.

"No."

"Good, because that would've been news to me." Tom blinked. "No, really, Chris."

"But... but some part of me must have thought, well, if Tom doesn't work out, I can still go back!"

"What?!" Tom sat up. "Are you kidding me?"

Chris seemed satisfied that he had finally got the reaction he had been looking for, and mortally scared at the same time.

"Okay, hold on, Chris. What on earth makes you say that?" They'd once talked thoroughly about not misconstruing the other person's words, and giving each other the benefit of the doubt before assuming the worst. This was pretty bad, as far as Tom was concerned, but he had to make sure.

"Because ever since I said goodbye to her – Tom, I hugged her."

"The horror," Tom deadpanned. "I'm shocked. No, I'm not. Good grief, I wanted to hug her when she brought India over. It's not hard, she's heartbroken and needs some support. How could you not?" He shook his head. "So, ever since you said goodbye to her...?"

Chris laughed self-deprecatingly. "I thought I'd be so relieved, but instead, I've been nothing but scared."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. It just... it suddenly all seemed so... unhinged. I was questioning every decision I've made in the past two weeks. Every single one. I was doubting everything. I came home here and I thought _What the heck am I doing?_ " He couldn't look at Tom.

"And then you took a shower, lit some candles, arranged four dozen roses around you, dressed in a seductive piece of black satin and waited for me to come home and make love to you?"

"Pretty much?"

Tom started to laugh.

"How is that funny?" Chris protested.

"Were you trying to make sure I wasn't going to kick you out after you told your wife I was perfect for you and she told you 'I think that's it, that's the final straw.'?"

"She didn't say that."

"Answer my question," Tom said. "Hm?"

"I was really rather..." Chris exhaled noisily. "I was sad and tired and I couldn't wait for you to come home."

"Oh, Chris."

"She's letting me go, Tom. And instead of being relieved, I'm feeling..."

"Lost?" Tom asked.

Chris shrugged. "I thought I'd be relieved." He sounded so forlorn.

Tom just wrapped his arm around Chris' shoulders and pulled him closer, wrapping his legs completely around him. "It's okay to be sad," he said against his temple. "Chris, it's okay to be sad that it didn't work out." He exhaled and rubbed Chris' back.

It had all happened so, so fast between them. A lot of it had to do with the fact that yes, Chris was married. To be sure what to tell Elsa, to make sure they weren't destroying a marriage for nothing, Chris had been driving their relationship forward at breakneck speed. And Tom, so exhilarated about having Chris' love, had basically nodded off everything, just wanted to make sure that Chris stayed and would not regret leaving his family for him.

They were both right idiots, he decided. This really needed to stop or it would break both their necks.

"What time does Elsa want to bring India tomorrow?" he asked.

"Um..." Chris sniffed. "I asked her to bring her so she could take her afternoon nap here," he said. "And then she's going to stay with us until Monday at six." He shivered.

"Is Elsa going to pick her up here?"

"Probably at the set." Chris took a deep breath and sat up, wiping at his eyes. He gave Tom an insecure smile. "I'm sorry, I had to make a few quick decisions during the counseling because..." He exhaled. "Because I felt that Elsa was kind of keeping India as a bargaining chip."

"Huh?"

"I felt like she would decide whether to let me have India on any given day based on whether I behaved okay towards her or not."

"Oh."

"So we decided to do a daily baby swap next week until Elsa leaves. India is going to be here every second day."

"We get her back Tuesday?"

"Uh-huh. I was wondering if you could take her home when Elsa and I go to counseling?"

"You're back in counseling next week?" Tom started to regret that Chris had put away the whiskey.

"Yeah, Tuesday and Thursday. And then weekly Skype sessions until Elsa is back."

"That... wow." Tom blew out a breath. "That's a lot of work going into a relationship that's supposed to be dead."

"I'm going to have to ask Alan to give me a light week," Chris said. "Or I'm not going to make it."

"I am suddenly catching on why you thought the whole seduction thing was a good idea," Tom said wryly.

"Are you okay with this?"

"No. Not really." It was out before he could think about it. And then he laughed. "Oh, and suddenly walking four hours in the cold makes sense, too. As do four dozen roses."

"Tom..."

"No. Don't Tom me." Tom let out a laugh. "Don't. I was just, _just_ thinking that... I'm so tired, Chris. _So tired_."

Chris just looked at him.

"I was really... really just thinking that we've been hurtling our relationship along at such breakneck speed, and it's all been because of Elsa. Because we both wanted to know if what we had was so serious that it was worth breaking her heart over. Am I right?"

"And because I was afraid you'd realize what you were doing and would tell me to get out," Chris said in a low voice.

"What?"

"You were so scared when it happened," Chris said. "And I was so in love I just couldn't let you go again. I couldn't have cared less about Elsa, I just wanted you."

"Aw, fuck." He saw the raw expression in Chris' eyes and knew he was telling the truth.

"Ever since this whole thing started I haven't wanted anything but you," Chris said. "That's all that mattered, and that's still all that matters. But I understand if it's too much."

" _You_ are not too much," Tom said. "You are not." He shook his head. "But this needs to slow down, Chris. And what you've just told me, it's only going to speed up. I've hardly come to grasp with becoming India's stepfather. I haven't even started wrapping my mind around that. And here we are again, and now we're talking about you having to shave off even more of our time together so you can work on things with Elsa. Between her and India, what's going to be left for us?"

"But I haven't been going home with her!" Chris said. "I'm here with you! And I am going to stay here until you fucking throw me out! Yes, I have a child. I love her, I want her in my life. And if that means I have to see Elsa occasionally and have things out with her, I will! That doesn't mean I love you less, or that there's nothing left for us."

"This is the first week with me that you don't have to do fourteen-hour days," Tom said. "The first week where I don't have to wait until eight or ten each night to see you. And the first thing you do is make sure you spend it with Elsa." He swallowed, realizing how close to tears he suddenly was. "And the next weekend is going to be all about her, too, about bringing India here and her leaving and it's going to be drama and nothing but drama again." He wiped his eyes angrily. "And I just can't do this any more. There needs to be a moment when it's going to be just about us."

"This is about us," Chris said insistently, but his voice had become a lot gentler. "Telling Elsa about how perfect you are for me and that she isn't. And saying goodbye to her tonight and knowing there is no way back. And then walking back all the way because I didn't want to be in the flat by myself. Wondering how exactly I can let you know how much you mean to me and how I can thank you for letting me be who I am, become who I need to be. Knowing what a pain in the ass all my baggage is, how can I make it worth your while? Knowing I've had to make some quick decisions today, which were the right decisions to make for me and my family. They were. This is important, and it needs to be done so we can finally all walk away from this and start something new. But we need to give this the proper closure or it's going to follow us around forever." He took Tom's hands and pressed them tightly. "I love you," he said. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I can see that if I want a good start for us, I've also got to finish this first."

"How long?" Tom asked, not caring how he might sound. "How long is it going to take?"

"Are you that fed up?" Chris asked, now a good bit more alarmed.

"Desperate is more like it!" Tom shook his head. "This has taken on such a life of its own. I don't think I have any stake any more in where it's going, it's just taking off and I... I'm at my wit's end how to deal with it. And I have no chance of avoiding any of it, because it's happening here, in my own home."

"What is happening here?" Chris asked. "You and me is happening here."

"I need a break, Chris."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, I'm just saying I'm in over my head!"

Chris looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on. "What can I do?" he finally said. "What... what do you need to make this better for you? I'm not leaving, there is no way I'm going to leave, though."

Tom had to laugh, it was a very sad chuckle, but the fact that Chris would not budge from his side was actually pretty adorable. "Okay."

"Just so that is clear," Chris said stoically. "There is no way I'm giving this up."

"I've got that," Tom said.

"Okay." Chris gave him another wary look. "Tom, the only reason I'm doing all this work is because of you."

"I never asked you to," Tom said. "And you never asked me if you should." It was a surprise to him how resentful he felt. "There is so much you and I still have to figure out. So much we need to figure out about living together, and how India fits into the mix. And at some point we need to figure out what's going to happen when the shoot is over. Are you going to leave?" He drew a shuddering breath. "Am I going to get used to being India's other Dad and then she's just going to disappear again?"

"I'm trying to find that out," Chris said softly. "I want to find that answer for you. The truth is, right now, it's not even clear what role I will play in her life yet. I could hardly stand giving her to Becky today to take away because I was so afraid I would never see her again."

"I didn't know that."

Chris shrugged. "It was just this feeling that I couldn't... I broke the trust that Elsa and I once had, and I know she's looking for ways to hurt me back. And India is so easy to use for that, and she will hit me with it every time and she knows it. And I do deserve it; I've been a miserable husband to her the past two weeks, haven't I? I would understand it but having India back even for just one day... I couldn't give her up again."

"I wouldn't ask you to."

"I know." Chris looked at him from bright blue eyes. "So I need the counseling, Tom. Because it's the only way I can meet her eye-to-eye, where neither one of us can just bang-out keep hurting the other person just because. And there is a third person there who mediates and asks the right questions and just keeps things level so we can actually talk about what's going on."

"So that's been good, then?" Tom asked.

"Yeah. I really like Dr. Casey. I mean it's still uncomfortable as hell but when she asked us in the end if we wanted to come back, we both said yes. I don't think... I don't think we could do this without her support." He took Tom's hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles. "I want to figure this out for you, whether it's worth investing yourself in India. Okay?"

"You need to figure out whether you will keep her, first. I get it now," Tom said.

"Yes." Chris exhaled. "And I had to act so fast and be very insistent that I get to see her this week. Elsa was very reluctant to give me anything."

Tom found himself stroking over Chris' hair. "Chris, I didn't know that. I thought it was clear she would bring India here to live with us while she was away."

"Eh," Chris inclined his head. "I very much got the vibe from her that she thought she could still change her mind at the last minute if something wasn't to her liking. I don't think she's all that comfortable with it at all, just sees that it would be better for India not to schlepped around while she's on the shoot. But convinced? No."

"Is there anything I can do?" Tom said.

"I... I don't think so, Tom. Right now, India's two birth parents are having a merry tug-of-war over her like complete idiots. It's all we can do to be civil while she's in the room with us. And I think... I think Elsa wants to keep up the counseling while she's away so she can be sure we'll keep talking, and I keep being accountable to her while I have India and she can't be there. So if that is the price I'm paying to know my daughter is safe and I can see her, then I'm paying that price. Does that make sense?"

"Yes." Tom exhaled on a long breath. "Yes, perfect sense." He ducked his head and kissed Chris, needing the gentle contact after all this upheaval.

"And all those other things," Chris continued when they broke contact. "All those other things are on my mind as well. If things work out and we'll have India part of the time – I do want shared custody – then I want us to look for a house here in London where we'll all have more space. You get your office back and a proper library and a door you can close behind you, because I know you miss it."

"Sometimes," Tom admitted.

"And we'll go have a look at a few properties in LA so when I or you have to work there, we'll have a home for us, and for India."

"You want to buy a house with me?"

"If you don't mind?"

"No." Tom took a shuddering breath. "I don't mind at all."

"Okay?" Chris leaned in and kissed him on that sensitive spot right below his ear.

It made Tom smile and he leaned his head against Chris'. "Okay." He linked their hands, looking at their entwined fingers wistfully.

"Now is there any way I can make the next week bearable for you?"

"You're seeing her Tuesday and Thursday?"

"Uh-huh. My schedule on set is not that bad next week because they're doing a lot of work with Natalie and Kat out on the factory site. I will have to show up to sweep her off her feet eventually..."

"Right." Tom grinned.

"But other than that it's mostly pick-ups and I'll ask Alan if he can schedule them so I can leave for counseling on those days. And other than that, I'm yours."

"I'm in the dungeon with Rene," Tom said wistfully. "It's her last week." He found himself kissing Chris again, desperate to fall into some semblance of their love.

Chris shifted, and his hand brushed against Tom's stomach. "Are we still talking?" he asked, straining into his lips.

"Yes," Tom said, but what he did was wrap his arms around Chris' shoulders and deepen the kiss. Chris' hands slipped under his shirt and he whimpered into his mouth, and then Chris had pulled him into his lap, his hands stroking up his sides. Not a word was spoken as Tom cupped his face in his hands and kept kissing him. Both their eyes were closed, and they moaned when Tom's hips rolled forward against him. Then off went his shirt, and then Chris', and Chris' shifted them until they lay on their sides, Tom's knee over Chris' hips, both completely lost in the touch of skin on skin, in reconnecting after such a long, busy, impossible day.

The room filled with their gasps and moans, Chris' beard brushing against his neck as he kissed and licked his way along it, driving Tom completely crazy. Chris' thumb played with his nipple, his fingernails digging into Tom's skin where he held him a little too hard. Tom strained into the caresses, needing the reality of them to offset what was going on in his head.

They started moving against each other, but didn't get enough friction, so off their pajamas went. Chris shivered and pulled the blanket over them, and then leaned over Tom, kissing him deeply, while his hand gathered both their cocks in it and started a soulful, slow pump. Tom desperately moved into the caress, he could not get enough of Chris' scent, the way he tasted and felt under his fingertips and against him, his slim hips moving into Tom's, the way the pleasure spiraled them slowly out of control. His fingertips dug into Chris' back and he just let himself fall into letting Chris take care of him, kiss him, hold him and work his cock in a way that finally had him arch against him sharply, and then come against both of them, crying out like he was inconsolably sad about something. Chris kept stroking them as they came down from their high, both covered in a light sheen of sweat and shivering.

"This doesn't solve everything," was the first thing Tom said, realizing with shocking clarity that whatever he was chewing on was suddenly bigger than the way they loved each other, and that was incredibly scary in itself.

"No," Chris said, pressing his head against Tom's shoulder. Tom wrapped his arms around it and kissed the top of his hair. "But I don't know what more I can do."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the conflict between Tom and Chris continues, matters head towards a possible point of no return.

Chris didn't realize how massively he had hurt Tom until the next morning, when he reached over in bed for a morning cuddle, and instead of turning around to him and scooting into his arms as he usually would, Tom just said, "Don't."

Chris retracted his hand, his heart suddenly beating in his throat. He swallowed nervously and said: "What is it?"

"Too upset," Tom said, and he swung up to sit at the edge of the bed. "I've hardly slept, and I'm not in the mood."

"I'm sorry," Chris said.

"Yeah. Me, too." Tom just stood up and walked away into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Chris sat up, dumbfounded. "Oh, shit," he swore. He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you going for a run?" he called. Tom out for an hour was not really something he was looking forward to. It was Sunday, the only day this week that they would have to themselves. It wasn't off to an auspicious start.

It took a moment until Tom reappeared. "No," he said. He crossed over to the dresser and just stood there, not coming closer.

"Umm..." Chris looked around him. "Tom, come on, sit down and let's talk. If I've done something..."

"You already said that all the decisions you've made yesterday were the right ones for your family," Tom said tersely, but Chris could see the hurt in his eyes. "There isn't much else to say then, is there?"

"Tom, you _are_ my family," Chris said. "I've said that before."

"And then you went out and made decisions that were right for you, Elsa and India only," Tom said. "You didn't ask me for my opinion, I didn't have a single bit of input and honestly, I don't feel like the decisions you've made yesterday were particularly right for me." He crossed his arms in front of his body.

"I couldn't ask you because you weren't there," Chris said, getting a bit irritated. "And I had to act quickly."

"You could not once say, look, this looks good, but I've got to talk to Tom if it fits his schedule?" Tom asked. "Really?"

"Not in that situation, no!"

"Chris, I'm so mad that I'm close to telling you to pack your stuff and leave," Tom said. "And if you're honest to yourself, you know you fucked up or you wouldn't have wandered around for four hours yesterday thinking of how to break the news to me, or have staged this huge seduction scene to sway me."

"Tom, I don't know what to do!" Chris said loudly. "You're telling me you want me and Elsa to talk, and now that we're talking it's not okay, either!"

"I don't want you two to fucking talk!" Tom said. "I want you to have India, because you love her, but if you and Elsa never saw each other again I wouldn't cry a single tear over it!"

"Well, one doesn't come without the other at the moment!" Chris huffed. "And maybe never will! Are we really always going to have this much of an argument over me talking to my ex wife?"

"If it means she's taking all the time we have together away from me, then yes!" Tom said. The corners of his mouth trembled.

"What time is she taking away from you?" Chris asked, knowing Tom wasn't all wrong.

Tom pressed his lips together.

"I'm going to see her twice next week," Chris said. "You'll probably still be on set filming when I'm going to counseling with her."

"Oh really," Tom said dryly. "She's coming over today."

"She's just dropping off India," Chris protested.

"In the middle of the day!" Tom said. "I'd been really looking forward to having some uninterrupted time with you, maybe go on a little day trip or do something just you and me. Now we can't, because she's going to be there in the middle of our Sunday. What happened to _No family problems on Sundays_?"

Chris had to admit he'd completely forgotten about that. "She's going to drop her off and leave," he said weakly, not really believing it, himself.

"At what time?"

"Before India's nap."

"And at what time is that?" Tom wanted to know. "Will we have to wait and twiddle our thumbs and if she doesn't show, call after her, have another argument..."

"Sheesh, do you want me to call her right now and ask?" Chris asked, feeling cornered.

"No," Tom said. "Chris, you haven't asked once, not even once, whether I had plans for us for today, or for the next week. Before even talking with me about your schedule, you already packed it full of your other family. And it's not just two times for counseling. It's today, it's Tuesday and Thursday, it's sometime next weekend with lots of upheaval and drama. You don't believe it's going to be as easy as her handing over India and saying goodbye, do you?"

"Probably not," he had to admit.

"And when you come back from counseling on those two days, we both know it's not going to be done. We'll probably sit here and talk about it for the rest of the night."

"Probably," Chris said, knowing that Tom was right.

"Plus you said those are the nights that we have India, so depending on how she settles, I might as well spend the night somewhere else for all the time we'll have together."

"Now you're being unfair," Chris protested.

"Chris, I feel like you push me so far aside in your life in favor of Elsa and India right now that I might as well not be in it," Tom stated matter-of-factly. "And honestly, it makes me feel foolish."

"Okay..." Chris rubbed his forehead, trying to stay ahead of the argument. "You're right, I will have to spend some time next week with both of them – I will have to spend some time next week with Elsa, in particular, because I think that is what irks you way more. But why does that make you feel foolish?"

"Because I seem to be the only one in this relationship who's willing to make efforts to make time to be together," Tom said.

"Uh, no," Chris said right away. "Hello? Our first anniversary – I don't even want to talk about it, it was too much of a lovely evening to want to even touch it with this argument."

"Chris, we have so little time together. It's not just the shoot. It's when the shoot ends; which is just about eight weeks away. I want to make of our time together what I can and you squander it..."

"I'm not squandering a single thing!" Chris said. He buried his face in his hands.

"Chris, I asked you to move in so we could spend what little time we have, together," Tom said. "I even converted my office into a nursery for India so you wouldn't feel that wanting your child near meant that you couldn't spend time with me. And yes, you are right, I do miss my office, I do miss having a place to close a door behind me sometimes. I struggle with the idea of India in my life. It doesn't come easy to me. And I've been looking forward to having this next week with you, and find just the slightest bit of normalcy – go home together, make dinner, talk, cuddle on the sofa, watch TV for Christ's sake! We haven't even done that together because you've always been home so late, and every weekend so far has been a struggle, apparently including this one. I was looking forward to getting to know India better. And it seems to me..." he drew a shuddering breath. "It seems to me like you didn't consider a single one of those things in your plans for next week. Not once did it occur to you to ask yourself, oh, do I have time for this, I want to spend some time with Tom. And that hurts, and it makes me feel foolish for having given you so much room in my life, in my house, and you can't even be bothered to ask how I feel about it, much less make sure I even occur in your plans."

When Chris didn't answer, just kept cradling his head in his hands, he heard Tom's footsteps on the carpet move towards the door.

"I'm starting breakfast," Tom said quietly. "Come when you're ready."

  
  


* * *

  
  


He honestly wanted to protest, and tell Tom he had it all wrong. Of course he loved him. But Tom had not questioned that. Of course he was important to him. Tom had not questioned that, either. Of course he wanted to stay with Tom. That had also not been questioned.

Out of his usual proclamations of love, which usually convinced Tom of his sincerity, Chris was suddenly stumped. It was suddenly not enough.

Chris crossed his arms over his updrawn knees and rested his cheek on them, too dumbfounded to do anything else.

His brain supplied him with a series of suggestions.

_But I'm tired, too_ , it said. Chris dismissed it, that was not a good argument and would lead to nothing. _I really want to call mom and dad_ , it suggested next. Chris sighed, suddenly very tired of his proclivity to immediately want to have people around him to distract him when he was troubled.

_Am I even a good person?_

Chris fell back unto the bed, sprawled out, and stared at the ceiling. Tom's bed. Tom's ceiling. Tom had been so accommodating with his time, his space, his life, that at no point had Chris had to think about that maybe, it cost him. _He could have said something before,_ Chris' brain piped up. That thought lead down a very uncomfortable road. Chris had no doubt that Tom had been sincere the whole time, but he, Chris, had already shown that he sometimes wasn't listening very well when something Tom was saying wasn't in the general vicinity of what Chris wanted or needed. They'd had a longish conversation last Saturday night about the pros and cons – mostly the cons – of trying to accommodate each other, and Chris had had to see that he usually knew what Tom needed – he just often brushed it aside in favor of his greater needs.

It wasn't a particularly comfortable revelation. Chris rubbed his nose. If he was completely honest with himself, the things that Tom had just talked about had simply not occurred to him. He'd been so caught up in the moment, and so elated about being able to talk about Tom freely towards Elsa. The irony. And then, of course, desperately wanting to keep India in his life, and seeing an opportunity right then and there. There truly had not been any time to think of a strategy, or to call Tom and ask him what he wanted.

But Chris was not stupid, he knew that was not what Tom had just said. What Tom wanted was that Chris also wanted to spend time with him, and consider that aspect when he made other plans. Of course he wanted to spend time with Tom. But, so his brain supplied cleverly, he could always do that later, after Elsa was gone! Couldn't Tom see that?

The problem was that while Chris could see why Tom would feel that way, he could not feel it. He knew what he'd been talking about with Elsa had been necessary. Maybe two more counseling sessions in the coming week were a little excessive, but if that meant that Elsa felt safer about leaving India with him, he was happy to accommodate her.

_And where are you happy to accommodate Tom?_ his unhelpful brain suggested.

He wondered if wandering into the kitchen and saying _I just don't tick that way_ would help, but he very much doubted it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"What are we having?"

Chris' pleasant voice so close behind him shook Tom out of his reverie. Apparently he hadn't come very far – a cup of coffee for both of them and a pot of tea was steaming in front of him before he had fallen into a kind of stupor, too caught up in his emotions to notice the passage of time.

"Um, I don't know," Tom said. Chris stood so close behind him, and now he was putting his hand on the small of his back. Tom flinched away.

"Tom."

"Just don't touch me, I'm really not in the mood," Tom said. There was no way he could return to normalcy while he was still so upset.

"Tom, stop."

He couldn't even look at Chris. He was too hurt and too confused and too shocked by this sudden imbalance in their relationship. "This was exactly what I was afraid of when you first mentioned Elsa wanted to go into counseling," Tom said. "That you would make decisions with her, and would be too caught up in the moment to consider our relationship."

"Considering the fact that I didn't do anything for 90 min but talk about how happy you make me, that's a bit of a stretch," Chris said mildly. "And if it's any consolation, it hurt Elsa like the dickens that I did."

Tom made a little noise in the back of his throat and rocked on his feet. "Not making you happy right now." He saw that Chris raised his hand and knew that he wanted to touch him, but seemed to remember and let it fall to his side again. Tom looked up. "This hurts."

"Yes," Chris said. "And I really don't know what to do about it."

Tom shrugged. "If it's not there, it's not there," he said. He moved over to the fridge and opened it, just staring into it, no idea what he wanted to do.

"Tom, let me handle breakfast?" Chris said gently. "Please sit down, have your coffee."

Tom wanted to protest, but he didn't have any good arguments. He made way for his lover, took his cup of coffee and sat down on the stool by the island. A moment later, Chris served him some hobnobs.

"You really think sweets make everything better," Tom scoffed.

"You're generally in a better mood when your sugar level is up and chocolate is good for the soul." Tom could see Chris' hands twitch, once more on their way to comfort him in some way, and remembering that he shouldn't. This really seemed to get to Chris, who was naturally very touchy and thrived on hugs and cuddles. "I'm going to whip up some pancakes. Or would your rather have an omelet?"

"Pancakes are fine." Chris was really good at making them. _I don't want this to be over,_ Tom thought, his heart cramping in his chest. _I love him so damn much._

"Okay," Chris said as he was unearthing the ingredients. Milk. Eggs. Sugar. Flour. A ripe banana. Chocolate chips. "Tell me how you would have handled yesterday," he said unexpectedly as he broke two eggs into the mixing bowl.

"What?"

"I keep going back to yesterday and the whole counseling thing, trying to figure out where I could have made a different decision, and I'm coming up completely empty," Chris said.

"Hm," Tom made. That Chris was taking this argument from the emotional to the rational level was unexpected. It wasn't usually Chris' style.

"I don't want to make the same mistake twice," Chris said. "You are important to me and I want this to work. Elsa will be a reality in our lives if we stay together. I want to know how to handle her without you feeling that I've abandoned you."

Just thinking about it made Tom's stomach roil. He hitched up one leg on the higher rung of his stool and wrapped his arm around it. "I just know that thinking about you in counseling with her next week is making me sick," he said. "And to think she's tied you into doing it again and again every week until she's back... it feels like she's staking a claim on you still, and you're just nodding it off."

Chris paused in mixing the soft ingredients together. "Are you afraid Elsa and I will get back together again?" he asked.

Tom clung to his mug, unable to look at Chris. He hardly heard Chris' steps on the kitchen floor, just realized he was standing in front of him when he took the mug out of his hands.

"I don't care that you don't want to be touched right now," Chris said. "You look like you could really use a good hug." He put the mug aside and his arms around Tom and this time, Tom didn't fight him off. With a muffled sob, he buried his face against Chris' shoulder and clung to him like a drowning man to a piece of wood.

"Oh, Tom." Chris' arms contracted around him and he felt his lips against his temple. He felt Chris rubbing his back and squeezed harder, his muscled bulk such a comfort. "I promise you we're talking about nothing but how much I love you, and how happy you make me. And then Elsa gets angry and sad and confrontational and we work our way through that bit by bit. And when Dr. Casey peeled away all the hissing on both sides, what we found was that if I am the man that I am with you, Elsa laughs and points and calls me a woman."

"Ungh," Tom made into Chris' shoulder. "Really? How rude."

"I kind of like the person I get to be when I'm with you," Chris said. "She can call me a woman all she likes, I don't care. I'm not offended by that. By the end of the session I think she started to realize that I might not be the man she thought I was, and certainly not the kind of man she would be attracted to in the long run."

"So I ruined you?" Tom asked

Chris chuckled. "No. You've made me better."

"I mean, for her? I ruined you for her?" He finally looked up at Chris and found nothing but gentle patience and fond smile.

"To be honest – and I might destroy everything again here – I think when I'm with you, I'm the closest to the person I'm supposed to be," Chris said. "It makes me so happy to be with you because you love me for what I like about me. I get to be... everything I need to be. And when I'm with Elsa, I box up the parts of me that she can't relate to so we are a better fit. I don't ever want to be in that box again." He dipped his head and kissed Tom, and it happened so fast that Tom had no time to protest. "And when I'm not in the box, Elsa doesn't know what to do with me other than laugh."

"That makes me mad," Tom said. "You are so beautiful." Then he closed his mouth and scowled, remembering that he was supposed to be angry at Chris.

"So really," Chris kept on saying. "What I've been seeing there is an opportunity. It feels good to me to talk about you freely and honestly, and not having to wonder how I keep hurting Elsa with talking about what makes me happy. Or if I do, there is a third person there who is really good at defusing the situation and getting us back to where we can just talk instead of jab at each other. That helps. But if Elsa is going down that lane, of realizing that we're not really a good match, as much as it hurts – and it does, in a way, it makes you wonder what else we lied about while we were together – if that's the solution she reaches, it will get easier. For all of us. For her to move on, and for us to be together. That's why I'm staying with it. If we get that resolved or established by the time she leaves for Romania, she can start moving on. And we can start concentrating on just us."

"You're going to counseling to make sure she breaks up with you?" Tom asked. That certainly put things into a different perspective.

"That, and a host of other things," Chris said. "Like I said, it feels good to talk about you and what's happening between us and have a third person there as a witness who doesn't judge. It's kind of like trying on a new pair of wings. It's easier to swallow for Elsa, too. I don't think she's particularly fond of the idea that her husband is honestly in love with another man."

"I am," Tom said before he could hold himself back.

"Hm." Chris smiled. "I'm kind of partial to it, too."

They just looked at each other for a moment.

"And what else?" Tom asked. "You said a host of other things. So far we have making sure Elsa breaks up with you, and talking about me."

"And then there's India," Chris said. "I was so afraid to do something wrong towards Elsa for fear she would take India away again. When we're in counseling, it's harder for her to avoid the confrontation, or just do as she pleases." He grew wistful.

"Hm?" Tom nudged him.

Chris shrugged. "I really think it's still hard on her," he said. "It really is. And it's going to take her a while to let go. I'm kind of glad someone is there in counseling whenever she reaches that point of realizing there is no way back, and she's losing something that's been important to her. I can't help her then, but Dr. Casey can. So just to see that she's cared for, it means I get to care about how this affects me. It's really tough, this counseling thing. But it seems like something that's really worth doing."

Tom was quiet for a moment, trying to place the sickening feeling that Chris lengthy explanation caused in his belly.

"So what you're saying," he said slowly, "is that counseling is really good for you. And it's really good for Elsa. And it's really good for India."

"And in the long run, it will be good for us!" Chris enthused.

Tom laughed mirthlessly. "Chris, I don't have the wherewithal to wait for the long run. I need you now. I'm at the end of my wits, now."

He saw Chris shift. "Um..."

"All I hear is Elsa, Elsa, Elsa," Tom said with increasing desparation. "How she feels. How to make her see this, feel that. It's all about her. You talk about how happy I make you, but have you thought about how hard all of this is on me? You want me to be India's second Dad, and you want me to keep making you happy, and you want me to be the canvas on which you can try out all those new discoveries of yours. Last night I felt so much in over my head that I wished it had never happened. None of this. I'm overwhelmed and completely desperate for some peace and quiet, to figure out what it is we have, and how we want it to be." He felt tears in his eyes and he didn't care. "And I come home and all I hear is that India's going to be here every second day and how much time you're going to spend with Elsa, making her feel better about everything, and not a word about how we are going to do things, and when we are going to talk, and have time for us. I'm done, Chris. I can't do this any more."

"Tom, I..."

"No, just shut up, Chris." Tom swallowed. "I've been trying to talk to you about India and you kept brushing me off. I have major issues with this, and it doesn't even seem to register on your radar. As long as I am pretending I'm fine with this, you just don't want to know. It does not work for me like this. I'm still trying to figure out how to be your boyfriend, or... or gay, or... or deal with the fact that falling in love with you means half my family thinks I'm the scum of the earth. And you just merrily keep piling it on as if just you and your wife and your daughter mattered. As if it would all come out okay if you just kept on and not looked too closely at the cracks. I don't work like this."

"Tom."

Tom drew a sobbing breath. "I'd hoped you make space to listen to me and talk to me today. Instead... instead we have this." He felt tears dripping down his face and couldn't care less. "You are still so tuned into Elsa that the moment she shows up again in your life, she's all that matters. If that's where your priorities lie, okay. Go back to her."

"I don't want to go back to Elsa," Chris choked out.

"Well you don't quite want to be with me, either," Tom said. "At least not when it's work or needs your attention and doesn't all solve itself with you telling me that you love me and that it'll be okay."

He saw that Chris' hand was trembling when he reached for him, how that hand stopped, and then fell to his side. And then Chris walked away.

Tom pressed his hands to his eyes and cried, the desperation collapsing over him like a wave.

"Elsa? It's Chris." He heard his lover on the phone, just on the other side of the kitchen. "Listen, I goofed. We can't take India today. I can't." There was a pause. "No. Tom had made other plans and I just didn't ask." He listened again. "Of course you can bring her into daycare tomorrow. No, I just can't tell yet. Listen, let me talk to Tom first before I'm making commitments I can't keep." There was a short pause. "Of course I still mean what I said yesterday. Just that I've been an idiot to pretend I can just decide these things on my own. I can't. I have a new partner whom I love and want to be with, and he also has needs." Tom could hear Elsa's upset voice all the way over to where he sat. "It's a good thing you're saying that," he heard Chris reply calmly. "Listen, Tom is taking this very seriously and he has a lot of questions and concerns about India living with us. Can we..." Tom saw him eying him nervously. "Okay, I didn't ask him, again. I'm and idiot. But... can we maybe meet, the three of us, and talk about India. What you want us to do and what not. I know..." He gave Tom another nervous look. "I think Tom would feel better if he knew he has your approval to take care of India while you're away." He paused to listen again."Okay." Tom saw Chris' eyebrows rise and then he looked at him. "I'll ask. Tom, Elsa wants to talk to you for a second?"

_God._ Tom wiped at his tears and sniffed and tried to put on some semblance of control and then nodded. Chris came over and handed him the phone. He didn't touch him, but kept standing nearby and looking really rather nervous.

"Yeah?" Tom said, hearing how soggy his voice sounded.

Elsa made a sound of surprise at hearing it, and then said, sternly. "Is he being an idiot again?"

"Eh, yeah." Tom laughed under tears.

" _Dios mio_ , you're really too good for that man," Elsa scoffed.

"You're probably right." Tom sniffed.

Elsa was quiet for a moment, giving him time to get his composure back. "You want to talk with me about India?" she asked.

"Yeah. That... that would actually be a good idea, I think." He shot a look at Chris. "I mean, I'm... I don't even know if you're okay with me babysitting her and... all the time, I mean. What if Chris is away for a day or two, or... do you want me to bathe her and... and do you sing to her when she goes to sleep? Do you want us to tell her about you while you're gone and... and will you call in on Skype and talk to her or... I don't know."

It was quiet in the line. Then he heard sniffing. "Um," she said. "I know this might sound stupid but I'm suddenly feeling one hundred percent better about leaving her with you guys. And it's not because of her father."

"Yeah." Tom wiped at his eyes.

"Yes, we can... we can meet, Tom. I'm..." She exhaled. "I have a lot on my plate this week, too, and... can we talk, like, tomorrow? Or Tuesday, after counseling with Chris? Then I'll have a better idea of what the rest of the week is going to look like."

"Yeah. Me, too." He exhaled. "Thanks, that... it would really take a load off my mind."

"Okay." He could hear her smile. "I'm sorry your day isn't good."

"Yeah, well." He sniffed again. "Yours just got better, you can keep India today."

"Yeah. Thank you." She sighed.

"I need to go," Tom said. "I talk to you soon."

"Okay. Take care. Hand me back to that oaf, will you?"

"Okay. See you. Bye." He wordlessly handed Chris the phone. "She wants to talk to you again."

Chris took the phone. "I won't be long," he hurried to assure him.

Tom shrugged. "Whatever." It didn't make a difference any more at this point. Tom got up and into the pantry to get himself a pack of tissues. The pantry was pleasantly cool and he stayed there for a moment. He only returned when he heard that Chris had been hanging up the phone.

Going back into the kitchen was about the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn't stay in here, either. He squared his shoulders and went back in. Chris stood by the island, leaning against it, and looked up when he saw him coming in.

They looked at each other. Tom very much felt that whatever Chris would say now would be too little, too late. If it took him breaking down so Chris would pay attention to him, it was just too much. He grabbed his coffee mug and went over to the sink to pour the cold coffee away. He then filled the water tank and added a coffee pad and while the water heated, he rinsed his mug. He finally heard Chris come closer, and his hand brushed against his elbow.

"Can we... can we talk?"

"Not right now," Tom said. "I'm just going to take my coffee and hang out in the living room for a while. I just want to be alone."

"You need to eat something," Chris urged.

Tom shrugged. "Bring me something when it's done, I don't care." He hit the button on the coffee maker and the hot water started to percolate through the pad.

"Tom." Chris blew out a desperate breath. "I'm really sorry. I know I fucked up."

"Guess what," Tom said blithely. "It's not about making you feel better for once." He took his coffee and walked out without looking back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conflict between Chris and Tom reaches its climax. Will this be the end of their relationship?

"Go away." Tom struggled onto his elbow when Chris insisted on touching his shoulder. He'd been curled up in a ball of misery on the recliner, staring sightlessly out into a fittingly rainy, dreary late November day, his thoughts and mind and body in a turmoil.

"Tom, I can't. I live here," Chris said patiently. "I brought breakfast."

"Just leave me the fuck alone," Tom swore. "I think you've done enough for one day, don't you?" He looked over his shoulder at Chris towering over him.

"I don't think I have," Chris said.

"You told me last week, that I shouldn't try to accommodate you. You told me last week that if we both had needs, we'd take turns or find some other way to figure it out. You told me to tell you if something bothered me, and all you've done is fucking ignore me," Tom said.

"Tom, I'm here now."

"Because I made you do it," Tom spat. "Just go away. If I have to make such a fuss for you to notice me, it's just not worth it."

"I've told you before, I can't leave, I live here."

"Oh God." Tom pulled a pillow over his head.

Chris left him alone for the moment, but Tom could hear the clinking of china, and tea being poured. The smell of fresh pancakes reached his nostrils and made his stomach ache. He really was incredibly hungry and the fresh food smelled so good. Plus, he knew what a good cook Chris was. Grumbling, not looking at Chris, he finally sat up, making sure he looked like he was made to do it. Chris had set the table and lit a candle. It actually looked nice and homely.

Chris pushed the plate with a stack of pancakes over to Tom. Tom picked two chocolate chip pancakes, put them on his plate and drowned them in syrup, butter, and vanilla sauce. Two minutes later, they were gone. Tom had a sip or two of coffee and reached for the banana cinnamon pancakes. He spread butter and raspberry jam on them and wolfed them down like a starving man. After, he emptied his cup of coffee and scanned the table for more food.

Chris had just forked the last chocolate chip pancake to his plate. Seeing that Tom was looking for more, he forked it onto Tom's.

"No," Tom said.

"I can always make more," Chris said. "Do you want another?"

"Maybe two?" Tom ventured.

"Chocolate or banana?"

"One each?"

"I'll be right back." Chris stood up and then set his sight on Tom's mug. "More coffee, too?"

"Please." Tom was so intent on making that last pancake his, he didn't realize he started to have manners again. By the time Chris returned with a steaming plate of fresh pancakes and another mug of coffee, he decided to be cheeky. "Can I have an orange, too, please?"

Chris looked at him through narrowed eyes, but then simply said "Sure."

By the time he returned, Tom was halfway through one pancake and had already claimed the other. He finally started to feel that he was eating, and his nerves settled somewhat.

When he finally arrived at his orange, he sighed contentedly and took his time peeling the fruit, enjoying its citrousy smell.

"When was the last time you ate?" Chris asked curiously, eating at a much slower pace.

"Um..." Tom had to think. "I guess before the event. Around five. I went over to Steve and Luke's and they had a snack buffet – lots of cheese and a fresh artichoke and crackers and stuff."

"Uh-huh." Chris eyed him carefully. "So basically, the last full meal was with India and me in the afternoon."

"I guess so." Tom pulled some of the soft white pulp off the orange and then closed his eyes with pleasure as he tasted it. "Perfect." He smiled. "Want a wedge?"

"Sure." Chris took it out of his hand and popped it into his mouth. He immediately grimaced. "Oh my god."

Tom grinned. "I love it when it's still a bit sour."

"I'm noticing." Chris could hardly close his mouth around the sour fruit but managed to chew and swallow it. He looked so offended with the taste that the sight made Tom laugh.

"Loki'd," he said softly.

Chris shook himself to get the taste out of his mouth and then winked at Tom. "Very clever."

Tom remembered that they were fighting and scowled.

He finished his orange and scooted back on his recliner, with his coffee mug in his lap. Chris left him alone while he finished his own breakfast, and then proceeded to clear the table. He left to take care of the dishes and Tom was alone again. He leaned against the backrest and watched the rain fall once more. It suddenly felt homely and cozy instead of dreary. He took a sip of his coffee and felt himself relax into the moment.

It took about fifteen minutes for Chris to return. He'd brought fresh mugs for both of them and poured them each a cup of tea. With the tea in hand, he sat down on the floor, leaning against the recliner. He was close, but didn't crowd Tom, who really appreciated that. They sipped their tea in silence, each man lost in their own thoughts.

"So," Chris finally said. "How do we improve on this truly sucky beginning of the day?"

"I'm sorry you can't see India today," Tom heard himself say. "Because of me."

He saw that Chris was taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "That I couldn't make it work for you."

Tom shot him a look. "What do you mean?"

Chris shrugged. "I know you said I could bring her back yesterday. And you asked for her when you came home. So I'm taking it that you would've liked to have her around, and wouldn't have minded to have her the whole day."

"It would've been nice," Tom mused. "If we'd had time to get to know each other. That was basically what..." he felt the freaking tears well up again and sniffed, "...basically all I wanted. Just some time. Just a little more time."

"Tom." He felt Chris' hand slide into his and didn't shake it off. "I'm so sorry."

"I know." Tom pressed his hand back, but then took his own away again. "It's just so much pressure and everything goes so freaking fast. It all needs to click into place so quickly and I just... I can't keep up."

"What do you need me to do?" Chris asked softly. "I... I seem to be so off, Tom. We've been on the same wavelength the whole time. I honestly thought you were... kind of heading the same way as I was. I'm really, really sorry that I didn't notice I'd lost you somewhere, but I must have."

"Friday night," Tom said immediately.

"Honey, what was Friday night?" Chris asked. "And I'm honestly, truly asking not because I didn't pay attention but because I was so freaking tired that night I can hardly remember anything except some dancing in the kitchen where I almost fell asleep in your arms and some truly magnificent lovemaking."

"You do remember that," Tom mock scowled at him.

"I do. Really." Chris gave him an assuring smile.

"Why were you so tired? I didn't really notice," Tom had to admit.

"Work was a lot of physical stuff, and we had a technical error, and then a good take with a lot of pyro didn't print," Chris sighed, wiping his face. "And I kept making people crazy by hurrying them along because I wanted to be home with you and India."

"I didn't know that. You didn't let on."

"I was too busy getting you into bed so we could make love before I would conk out," Chris admitted. "I just didn't want to let our anniversary go to waste."

"Oh god." Tom took a shaking breath.

"Hm?" Chris looked at him.

"I felt like you weren't even listening to me that night," Tom admitted.

"When do you mean?"

"When you first came home, and when we brought India to bed. I was... she'd been crying half the night and I'd... kind of really lost my confidence. That she would like me, and things would kind of fall into place. Still haven't regained it, really." He blew out a breath. "And I tried to bring it up..."

"Did I shoot you down?" Chris asked.

"You kind of... I was also saying how difficult I was finding it to figure out what role I was supposed to play in India's life. And... and I wanted to leave you two alone to get reacquainted."

"I kind of remember that one," Chris recalled vaguely. "But I'm fairly sure that I'd been looking forward to seeing you all day and wasn't about to let you go then."

"That was about it," Tom admitted.

"I am trying, Tom. Just that day... it was really rough. I made a few people really angry on the set by trying to be home before midnight but I knew you were alone with her and would probably worry." He let his fingers walk down the recliner wistfully. "And I couldn't wait to see my little girl again."

"Now I'm feeling even worse about making you call Elsa," Tom groaned.

"I made that call," Chris said wistfully. "You know if it's between you or anyone else, I would always choose you."

Tom kept feeling worse and worse. "It didn't feel like that was still the case," he said in a low voice. "I don't want you to have to choose between me and India."

"I think that's a bit insincere, actually," Chris said, stabbing at the recliner's mattress with a single finger. "If you need me, you need to tell me."

"I was too busy making sure you were okay," Tom said. "Yesterday, I mean. I thought you'd heard me Friday night, and kind of brushed me off... and then India came in the middle of the night and you were just then realizing that you'd almost lost her. You were devastated. You needed me."

Chris didn't say anything, but he caught Tom's hand in his and placed a thankful kiss on it before letting it go again.

"And then we only had a couple of hours of sleep before she came again, so there was no time to talk then, either. By the time I came back from my run, you were super upset about Luke, so I defused that one... and then your mom called and you were so annoyed about that, so I took her off your hands, as well."

"God," Chris groaned.

"So I kind of figured it was because you were so nervous about the counseling and the last thing I wanted was to be locked in with the pacing tiger, to be honest. So I figured breakfast out and then we played in the park and entertained the baby and then it was almost time to leave!"

"We made love that afternoon," Chris said wistfully. "And you cried."

"Yes." Tom found himself tracing Chris' lower arm with a curious fingertip. "Kind of makes sense now. Not so much then."

"So you're coming home last night after a long day, you've already felt that I hadn't taken you seriously Friday night, you spent the whole day making sure I was okay, putting your own needs on hold, you'd hardly eaten anything, and when you thought I would finally have time to listen to you, I cheerfully tell you about how great my counseling with Elsa went and how I can't wait to do it again."

Just thinking about it made Tom feel sick all over again. "Yes."

"And how I've also cheerfully given half of our Sunday away, invited Elsa in, and basically informed you that my daughter would be visiting every second day and could you please make sure you can pick her up so I can go to counseling with my wife undisturbed," Chris finished.

"Pretty much," Tom said. "That's pretty much it."

"I would've kicked me out if I were you," Chris said sincerely. "Jesus."

"The worst thing is that I've invited this whole thing into my home," Tom said. "Because I trusted you, and trusted you not to abuse that privilege. I've given you my whole life, basically, and two thirds of my flat. I mean, if something goes wrong, I don't even have a place to go to to get out of the situation. It's right here."

"Are you regretting asking me to stay?" Chris asked, his voice very low.

"I did today," Tom said sincerely. "For the first time, I did today. Because I had no power over when India would come over, and whether you could walk in on me while I was upset or not. I do need a door to close behind me sometimes. I need room to breathe and to think. And it's not likely to get easier when India is here full time."

"And my brilliant opening argument when you told me to get lost was _I can't, I live here_ ," Chris groaned. "Really smooth."

Tom smiled. "You're a tough fellow to shake when you've decided to love someone," he said, and his hand slid into Chris' again. He finally turned his head to look at him. "I think that's a really lovable trait, actually."

Chris looked up at him, his bright blue eyes looking stormy and dark in the shadow. "Tom, this can't ever happen again," he said. "Ever."

Tom recoiled. Sitting up, he turned all the way towards his lover. "What? Me making a fuss about you ignoring me?" he asked testily.

"The whole thing," Chris said. "The whole entire thing going so far that we are in this situation again. You having a complete meltdown and telling me to get out. I almost did."

Tom swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

"Was that what you wanted?" Chris asked sincerely. "Me to leave?"

"No, what I wanted was for you to make time to listen to me and take me seriously!" Tom said. "It was like I was suddenly living with a stranger. I wanted that stranger to get out. I wanted my Chris back."

Chris wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his forehead on them, effectively hiding his face. Tom reached out and let his fingers run through his soft hair. "Chris, I love you so much," he said, and he felt it in every fiber of his being. "I need you in my life so freaking much. I've just started to believe that you'd actually be there, and stay. Look at all the shit we've already managed to get through."

"Tom, you just made me feel like I was the worst person on the planet, ever," Chris said, looking up. "The only reason I'm not perpetually trying to flog myself over being the asshole who left his wife and kid is because when I look into your eyes, I believe that it's been worth it. That in the end, I might actually still be a decent person somewhere inside there. When you believe in me, I can believe in me."

Tom just listened.

"I'm... counseling just opened up a path for me to find some... some way of understanding how I got there. Of understanding why I fell in love with you so much I was ready to give up everything for it. Some absolution for my sins, if you want. Understanding that..." He scowled, trying to find the right words, but then shook his head. "I have a bit of a glimpse now of what it is I'm looking for when I'm with you, and what I've missed with Elsa. But I haven't even really started to figure it out yet, and I really want to."

"I'm so jealous you get to do this work with Elsa and not with me," Tom said. "It's something beautiful about you that I can't share."

"She's not appreciating it, believe me," Chris said wryly. "But I have a ton of respect for her to take it on in the first place."

"But where is my place in all this?" Tom asked bluntly. "Where do I come in, Chris? We live together, we even work together at the moment. You've repeatedly said you want to be with me for the rest of our lives. And right now it feels to me like you're pushing me aside, as if you're trying to get me out of the way while you're doing this work with your other family, and it scares me to pieces."

Chris took a moment to think, mulling over his words. When he looked up to answer, Tom could see in his eyes that he had hit a nerve. "I wish I could say you are completely wrong," Chris said.

"But I'm not, huh?" The revelation came more as a relief than a surprise.

"No." Chris rested his chin on his knees. "I've been on such a zealous quest since I got out of counseling yesterday that when you didn't get on board with me right away, I was really rather annoyed."

"That is a problem," Tom said.

Chris slung his arms over his head. "One I really don't want to deal with right now," he said. "Really not."

Tom watched him, trying to figure out what to say. The sinking sensation in his belly was back, the feeling that someone was pulling the rug out from under him, unbalancing him. Telling Chris 'I told you this would happen' would not help, and neither would insisting that Chris would concentrate on them and their relationship right now, because obviously, he was completely preoccupied with something else. That something else pulled him away from him, Tom, and the mere thought was so painful he could hardly think it. 

If he was right about what he suspected, Tom didn't think he'd have the courage to make the final cut. He just couldn't let Chris go. And still, he found himself croak out: "Tell me what you would like to do right now, Chris."

The question stopped Chris' breath. He went completely still for a very long moment and then shivered and groaned: "Don't ask me that."

Tom didn't dare ask a second time. The sound of his grandfather's clock ticking away on his bookshelf was all that could be heard while Chris' arms contracted over his head.

"I'm such an idiot," Chris finally said, and finally looked up. "I'm such a fucking idiot! Jesus! Why couldn't you just play along?" he asked plaintively. "Why do you have to ask these questions?"

"I'm in this relationship, too," Tom said. "When parts of it are missing, it doesn't work."

"I don't want to deal with this!" Chris wailed. "God. Not now."

It was so painful to watch him have this out with himself. Tom didn't know what to do. He thought he knew the answer that Chris did not dare to speak, or he wouldn't be in such pain. If he said it out loud, though, then this was over, passé, the end. All the discoveries of the last two weeks, the struggles, the elation, the pain, leaving his family, all for nothing.

"What's it going to be, my love?" Tom said gently. "Hm?" He wanted his last words with Chris to be kind and loving. He wanted Chris to remember the good times, and that they had loved each other deeply, if only for a very short time. He had no idea how he would survive it when Chris left, but he would, somehow.

He reached out and softly stroked over Chris' head, letting a strand of his silken hair run between his fingers, trying to memorize everything about it. When this was over, he would of course keep seeing Chris on set, but they would never again be that close. He would never have this privilege again, to let his fingers brush through his hair, to be completely covered in Chris' smell, to kiss him so deeply he thought they were one person, to see him come completely undone in his arms. He would never wake up with him again, never again fall asleep in his arms.

It had been short, intense, and sweet. Tom traced along Chris' arm, across his wrist, letting the back of his fingers brush over Chris'.

"I love you so much," he said. "But if you have to go, you have to go."

Chris drew an enormous sobbing breath and scooted forward, burying his head in Tom's lap, his arms wrapping around his waist.

"Oh, honey." Tom leaned over and placed a kiss on top of Chris' head.

"It's like it's all catching up with me now," Chris said, his voice muffled against Tom's leg, "Like I'm only just now breaking up with them. It hurts so much. I just want to go out and ask them to have me back and..." he sobbed, "Just.. I want India back, I just don't want to let her out of my sight again and..." another sob, "and there's this really stupid part of me who keeps piping up, saying what if, what if we'd gone into counseling before, what if it really was something we could've worked out?"

It wasn't quite yet what Tom had geared up to hear, but he kept bracing himself as he ran his hands comfortingly across Chris' shoulders.

"Like all the feelings I have over the breakup are crashing down on me right now," Chris said. "Dr. Casey said it's like grieving someone's death when a relationship is over, but I didn't think she said it for me."

_Oh._

"So I've been going back and forth between wanting to call and ask Elsa's forgiveness and being upset about the things she's said to me and wanting to just go there, take India and leave and never see her again. I keep going back and forth about being relieved that Elsa wouldn't like me like I am right now and being really upset about it. When you just asked me what I'd like to do, I was honestly considering grabbing my jacket right that minute, going down there and talking to Elsa."

"I thought that was it," Tom said, but he started to become a little calmer.

"There is still so much we need to work out," Chris said, and he finally looked up. "And it's not just for Elsa, it's for me, too. I need that counseling as much as anyone. Because I've just not dared to look in the mirror yet for fear of what would be looking back."

"Don't shut me out," Tom said. "Please don't shut me out, Chris."

"If you and me are working on becoming a family with India, then I know for sure my former family is over," Chris said. "And I'm just not there yet. I was really upset when you made me call Elsa this morning."

"I wasn't making you," Tom said, but he knew that was only partially true.

"When the two of you were talking about India, that was really hard. Like I'm not father enough to take care of her and you need to to talk to her about how it's done."

"No one said that," Tom said. "You are a wonderful father and your daughter loves you. But you asked me, Chris. You asked me to be a second Dad to her and I have no idea yet how to be that. I have no idea yet how that is supposed to work." He blew out a breath and shook his head. "Apparently, neither have you. That explains a lot."

"It was so hard to give India away again yesterday," Chris said. "I really panicked. I told Elsa if she wouldn't tell me when I would see her next I would just walk out of the office with India and take her home."

"I see that is going really smoothly," Tom said. "Did the negotiation about her being here every second day go about the same way?"

"Roughly." Chris sniffed.

"So you bullied her into giving her up?"

"Um, I wouldn't call it really... bullying," Chris said, shifting uncomfortably. "I had some good arguments. I just couldn't let her leave without knowing I would get India back."

Tom sighed. "Honey, if you just tell me what is going on, I am more than happy to help you have India here as often as is possible. You know what Elsa said to me on the phone earlier? That she was suddenly feeling a lot better about leaving India with us while she's away after she's talked to me."

"You two are like peas in a pod," Chris growled.

"So you'd rather I just kept out of your previous family altogether?" Tom asked.

"No." Chris pouted, but his arms contracted around Tom's hips. He bashfully hid his face in Tom's lap again.

Tom shook his head and found himself once more stroking Chris' hair.

The tension was finally gone. The secret was out, the air was clearing up. Chris was still there. Petulant and contrary about having been called out, but he was there.

It was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going back to work on Monday and will most likely be very busy catching up after being home sick for two weeks. So I wanted to post this before real life interferes. It may also mean I won't be able to answer a comment right away. I read them all, and I often think quite a bit before I feel I can answer them with the care that was put into writing them, so please bear with me.
> 
> Thank you for sticking this out with me. I truly appreciate it. <3
> 
> PS: If you have to get into an argument with your significant other, make sure you've both eaten recently and your blood sugar is up. It is so frustrating to watch things descent into chaos just because someone's last meal has been 12 hours ago and they are ravenous for a meal. Trust me. I'm speaking from experience.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I still named my chapters, this would be called _Beautiful Disaster_ , after the song by Kelly Clarkson.
> 
> Oh 'cause I don't know
> 
> I don't know what he's after
> 
> But he’s so beautiful
> 
> Such a beautiful disaster
> 
> And if I could hold on
> 
> Through the tears and the laughter
> 
> Would it be beautiful?
> 
> Or just a beautiful disaster

Maybe it was a start. But it was a really uncomfortable one, Tom realized not much later, when his lower back started to ache because of Chris' weight over his legs. Chris wasn't leaving him, apparently. But he was a sobbing mess, and Tom realized with some alarm that he was still supporting him, and not just with his legs. So his worst fear had not come true. Whatever Elsa's pull over Chris, it wasn't enough to wrench him from Tom's side. Instead, what he had was a 230 pound man-child draped over his lap, not only sobbing his eyes out, feeling sorry for himself over his failed marriage, but also randomly firing cheap shots at him over his desire to make Elsa feel at ease about giving up her daughter and – other than Chris himself – actually getting somewhere with it. Not to mention suddenly changing his tune about wanting Tom to be a second parent to his daughter and instead complaining that that would make him feel bad because he wasn't finished crying over wrecking his relationship with Elsa.

So far, they'd been terrifically in love and everything had been so steeped in romance that the bumps in the road had seemed to have been worth it. This, however, started to rub Tom the completely wrong way. For just a moment, he realized with some alarm that this was the kind of thing women were regularly expected to deal with. He'd known quite a few of his mates who had fallen apart just like it when drunk and under pressure, but he'd never been expected to do something about it. He'd sent them home to their girlfriends or wives and that was it. Surely they knew what was to be done. Sadly, being a man, he'd never been invited to that particular tutorial on dealing with manly self-pity.

This mess, in his lap right now, was his to deal with. He was half-tempted to call Elsa or Chris' mother to ask what on earth he was supposed to do with that. This had nothing to do with the Chris he knew, who was supportive, loving, and kind, and regarded Tom to be the apple of his eye. Apparently, without him noticing it, they had passed over into established coupledom, where meltdowns were okay and supposed to be tolerated by the significant other. A little chagrined, he realized that he'd thrown quite a hissy fit of his own this morning, when he had got up with all of last night's resentment stewing through a long, sleepless night, aptly spiced by a dangerously empty stomach and its best mate, a really foul mood.

He'd arrived home last night, desperate for Chris' attention, already knowing that he would most likely be preoccupied with the counseling, Elsa, and India. He'd spent the whole day supporting Chris, thinking that this was what he was supposed to do as his loving partner. He hadn't even minded that much; there had been a lot of wonderful lovemaking where he could see himself reflected as the center of Chris' world in his lover's eyes, and he had figured, when Chris had told him that he would ask Elsa to take India the next day, that he would get his fill of Chris' attention then.

This, however, was a completely different thing.

Crying over it had not made Chris listen, nor had yelling, throwing a fit, not letting him touch him. Yes, knowing for sure now that he would be stuck with Chris was a good thing – he supposed, not really sure about it right that minute, all things considered. His head cleared up and he stopped panicking, and his honorable generosity of a few moments ago, so willing to let Chris go if he would find happiness somewhere else, suddenly felt over-dramatic and a little embarrassing in the face of the present situation. He was always so poised to lose. Chris was completely resistant to being lost. He'd put his mind to staying and that was a problem that Tom had never had.

If that was something that would not happen, Tom mused as he kept combing his fingers through Chris' hair, a whole set of fears could just be discarded. This moment with a petulant, contrary Chris in his lap, and him stroking him, was the calmest they'd had since he had woke up Chris last night. He allowed himself to settle into it, into the feeling of his lover's weight against him, his breath against his knee, his grandfather's clock ticking the only sound in the room. _He was here_ – suddenly present in this moment instead of wishing to be somewhere else, with someone else, the aftermath of the adrenaline rush leaving him drowsy and pliant. He'd basically not wanted anything else the whole time, just be in the present with Chris. But Chris was preoccupied with solving a riddle that could not be solved, and that left him so lonely that his heart contracted and just thinking of it made him draw a sobbing breath. What good was a lover who refused to leave, but was not present with him? Tom's entire soul ached for Chris' loving regard and what he got was someone who was in no condition to give him that. He didn't know what to do other than keep stroking Chris' hair and stay where he was, because... he'd said everything. He'd brought forward every argument he'd had. Chris had not heard him and it was breaking his heart.

He sniffed, and stroked Chris once more, and then he nudged him a little to make him sit up. One look into his face told him that Chris was still gnawing on the same bone, and there was no sign of the love and regard that Tom was so desperately looking for.

"Listen," he said, lovingly stroking a strand of hair out of Chris' face. "I don't think this is helping."

Chris furrowed his brow in what looked very much like a 29-year-old pout.

"You're really contrary, and you're very sad about Elsa, and you're dying to make it right with her," Tom said. "And while I can understand that, I'm really sad that you don't have time for me today."

"But I'm..." Chris was immediately ready to contradict him.

"I know you're here, but all we're doing is talking about her. And I really miss you. I miss you so very much." He felt tears shooting into his eyes. "And I can't keep arguing with you about things that you should be arguing with her about. You and I, we were fine until yesterday afternoon. Your fight is not with me," he pointed out as gently as he possibly could. "And I just can't keep fighting, it's breaking my heart."

"I can't lose my daughter," Chris said. "I'm so afraid if I don't get it right, Elsa is going to take her away again."

Tom simply didn't have any strength left to support Chris. Either he would draw his own conclusions or he would stay miserable until this week was over, but Tom just couldn't be involved any more. "Then why don't you go and talk to her," he suggested gently. "I promise I'll still be here when you come back."

Chris eyed him, not sure what was going on. "Are you... trying to find a reason to throw me out?"

"No, I think I got that I'm not getting rid of you so easily," Tom tried a rather sad tease. "I'm just completely overwhelmed with all of this. I don't know where our relationship went, or where the Chris went that I thought I knew. But the Chris who's right in front of me is completely preoccupied with that particular situation, which I simply can't help with because I need support, myself."

"With what?" Chris asked.

"Hm?"

"What do you need support with?"

"Nothing you can help with right now, honey." Tom kissed his hot forehead. "Do you think you'll be back by lunch, or rather by dinner? Maybe you can spend some time playing with India, with Elsa. Then maybe you can talk a little about what's on your mind and your day isn't lost altogether."

"But my day isn't lost," Chris said and took Tom's hand. "I wanted to spend it with you."

"Doing what? Hm?" Tom's thumb rubbed over the back of Chris' hand.

"Being with you," Chris insisted.

"It's just not turning out that way, and that's okay," Tom said. "I understand that India is important to you."

"But not more important than you!" Chris said it, and then he suddenly grew very quiet.

"Really, Chris, it's okay. I know you're coming back." Tom leaned forward and kissed him gently. "I promise I'll be here when you do."

"But I don't want to leave!" Chris said. "I want to spend the day with you! Stop sending me away when things get difficult!"

Tom didn't have the strength to argue any more. "Chris, you just said you wanted to grab your things and leave to talk to Elsa, and that's perfectly fine. I'm not sending you away, I'm telling you it's okay to do what your heart tells you to do."

"But my heart wants to be here with you..." Chris said, more urgently now, and then he grew quiet again. "But how should you know, I haven't talked about anything but Elsa and India all day."

"Like I said, that's okay."

"Since when?"

"Since I realized you'll always come after me, and you're always coming back," Tom said.

"Has that got through, then?" Chris said, and for the first time that day, he was smiling that gentle smile that Tom loved so much, and that was always warming his heart.

"Yeah, like I said earlier, you're hard to shake when you've decided to love someone," Tom joked. "It took me a while, but I think I got that if you're not leaving me now, you're not leaving any more."

"Oh, good." Chris exhaled, and pulled him down for a kiss. "I'm so relieved." He pressed their foreheads together, beaming a smile. "I love you, Tom."

"I love you, too." Tom added a quick kiss to Chris' nose, and then straightened again. "Are you going to go?" he asked as lightly as possible.

"I really miss India," Chris said.

"I know, sweetheart."

"And the counseling kicked loose so much."

"I know."

Chris started to grow quiet. Tom wasn't unfriendly with him, he didn't argue or fight with him, he was just not giving him any reason to. But he didn't give him any openings to get into the subject any more, either.

"Is this how it's going to be?" Chris asked, sounding petulant again. "You're not even going to talk to me about it?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Tom asked.

Chris drew a deep breath as if he wanted to start into the next thing, and then he didn't. It took a moment, and then he said: "But you were really upset about me taking so much time away from us next week."

"Yes." It still hurt, but again, he simply didn't have the strength to get into it.

Chris eyed him uncertainly. "Are you, still?"

"What do you think?" Poised as a question that was interested in Chris' thoughts on the subject, not an accusation.

"I think you don't want to fight any more," Chris said. "But my heart is still so heavy."

"I know."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"About what?"

And Chris grew quiet again.

"Are you leaving, honey?" Tom asked.

Chris shook his head. Tom could just see what he was thinking, how heavy his heart was over the loss that he had just now dared to admit to himself. He could deal with that, but he couldn't deal with being expected to jump on the bandwagon of wanting to do something, and now, when he could well see that that particular train had long gone, and all that was left was dealing with the rubble. Chris finally looked at Tom, and for the first time, Tom felt like he was actually seen that day. Chris took his hand, and kissed his palm, and said: "What do you need help with, Tom?"

"Nothing you can help me with today," Tom said again.

"How would you know?" Chris asked.

"Because it's all about your daughter, honey, and you're already dealing with as much as you can."

"I feel so stupid."

"I know."

Chris furrowed his brow at him. "Is that all you're going to say today?" he asked sharply.

Tom flinched and instinctively pulled his hand back before he could stop himself.

"Please tell me when you're done lashing out at me," he said. And then he just got up and left.

  
  


* * *

  
  


For the longest time, Chris stared at the closed bedroom door. God, he knew he'd done Tom wrong, and still he couldn't help himself. The entirety of him was pain, grief, regret. There was no room left for love, kindness, regard, not for anyone else, certainly not for himself. He weighed his phone in his hands, resting its edge against his forehead as he held it in his hands. He wanted to be where Tom was, because it was the only anchor he wanted or needed. That the whirlwind that was ravaging through him was also hurting Tom was something he recognized, but he was so deep inside his pain that he didn't manage to do something about it.

He called up Elsa's number, and stared at it. Of course he could call her now. Tom had given him free reign to go and see her, although he suspected very much that that would not come without consequences, all of which he would absolutely find reasonable, but wasn't willing to risk. He wanted Tom so deeply, so desperately. And at the same time the dancing devil inside of him was making him skate as closely to the edge as possible. He wanted to be hurt. He wanted to be dangled over the edge, he wanted the threat of losing it all, because god, he did not deserve a single bit of his happiness right now. If he would call Elsa now, what would she say? What on earth could he say that would change any of what was going on right now? Nothing. He'd called her this morning to say that he was putting Tom first. Then he had punished Tom for that for the rest of the morning. He was worse than anything you could scrape off the sole of a shoe. Nothing he could say right now, to anyone, was worth a damn.

He switched his numbers and typed.

_Dad, I'm screwing up royally._

It took no two minutes for his father to text back.

_Where are you?_

_Home._

_With Tom?_

_I just managed to make him lock me out._

_Do you want your mom?_

_No. I need your help. I need you._

Again, it took a couple of minutes, then his phone rang.

"Dad?"

"Chris, what's going on?"

And that was it. It didn't need more than that for everything to simply collapse. The whole situation, his helplessness, his pain, it all just poured out of him, and he was not easy on himself. With absolutely painful honestly, he told his father everything, from brushing aside Tom's fears, realizing that he had almost dismissed his daughter for this new love of his, how absolutely desperate he was to have her back and what lengths he was willing to go to to have her, how deeply conflicted he was when it came to Elsa, that there was still that flicker of deep-seated love that made it impossible for him to ignore her emotions over Tom's, and how he had suddenly been on this outrageous quest of wanting to solve everything, now, and it didn't matter who was paying for it, culminating in him exploding in grief over his failed marriage. He didn't gloss over anything, he didn't embellish on anything, either. He just told the truth.

He felt purged and empty when he was finished. There was no relief, just hollowness. Just the right amount of pain and despair that he needed.

"What is that man of yours doing right now?" Chris' father wanted to know. That he called him that, matter-of-factly, made Chris crack a smile.

"Hiding from me in the bedroom," he said. "Before you say anything, there is nothing he could have done."

"Uh-huh. Boy, why are you talking to me, not to him?" his father asked, rather unsympathetic.

"Because I've already alienated him and if I'd kept it up, I could have packed my bags, and I'm not ready for that yet."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Chew me out," Chris said.

His father laughed. "No. Too easy."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"You know what you're supposed to do, you're old enough," his father said mercilessly. "What are you calling me for?"

"You're as bad as he is," Chris complained.

"Which is probably why you called," Greg laughed. "Stop that nonsense, make up with Tom. Whatever you think you deserve, he hasn't, and he's obviously not going to do you the favor of hating you the way you hate yourself right now. Walk it off. Box it off. Don't take it out on the people you love. Why am I telling you this? You already know."

"What can I do to make up for what I've done?" Chris asked. "To Elsa and India, I mean?"

"Let her go," his father said. "And love your daughter as best as you can when you have her."

"That is not enough," Chris protested.

"It's all that's left for you to do," Greg said. "No more crying over spilled milk. No more hurting other people over your own pain. I raised you a better man than that."

"I'm afraid I'm going to walk out of here and won't come back," Chris said.

"What would that be good for?" Ah, he knew why he had called his father, not his mother.

"Do you think Tom will be a good father for India?"

"But she's already got a father, or are you sick?"

Now Chris started to laugh. "Thank you," he said. "You just did Tom a huge favor."

"He's gonna be great with her," Greg said. "But her Dad? That's always going to be you."

"Yeah." He was starting to feel better.

"Chris, nothing of what you've just told me is anything out of the ordinary," his father assured him, now a bit more friendly. He had no patience for self-pity, never had, but when you came around, he was happy to chat with you about what was on your mind. "You're not a special case. You're a bloke who screwed up. You man up and deal with it. Emotions are always a mess, and breaking up isn't a party. But Elsa is a sharp cookie and Tom isn't an idiot, either. You’ve got good taste when it comes to that. Let them straighten you out and laugh as much as you can with your little girl."

"Are you saying I'm choosing my own teachers?" Chris asked.

"And sometimes you move on when you can't learn any more from one," Greg said. "Why are we still talking about this?"

"I don't think I'll ever be smart enough to learn everything Tom knows," Chris said.

"Then stop fuzzing around and get learning, son."

After they hung up, Chris waited for his mother to call.

She didn’t. 

His mother wasn’t the kind to hold a grudge, so apparently she didn’t see a reason to. 

He assessed his circumstances.

Here he sat, alone in his living room. It had become his, not just Tom’s, somehow. He was making a life with that man. He was in horrible pain, and he needed to share it with Tom. Tom was refusing to have it shared on him. Well, not refusing per se. He’d been there for Chris when he’d broken down over having India back, and he’d held and comforted him last night when he was so sad about realizing that his relationship with Elsa was truly over, that there was nothing to salvage. Afterwards, he’d done nothing but waltz all over him as he was trying to get him onto his quest to make everything better, now.

Tom was there for him when he faced his loss, and mourned it. Chris stayed with that thought for a moment, because it was comforting. But Tom had been very upset when he had shared his plans for next week. It annoyed Chris because he had just been on such a high of thinking he could actually do some good.

Again, he went back to that thought of Tom holding him last night. To that moment two nights ago, where they had all curled up on the recliner together, with India. How deeply Tom had made love with him after. How good it had felt to be completely surrounded by Tom, feel him inside of him, pounding his love into his very soul, pouring it right into his center. He loved Tom because he could be completely vulnerable with him. Tom handled every bit of him with such care. He never had to be afraid that Tom would make fun of him or not take him seriously.

He couldn’t think about what he was doing to Tom right now in return, it would result in a new wave of despair. He needed to think about why he was with Tom. What was Tom teaching him that he wanted to learn?

His own words came back to him; how happy he was now to be with Tom. How much he liked that new person that being with Tom was changing him into. There was no sign of that new person anywhere right now. He was in full… he scowled. He was in full Elsa mode. This was how they had been handling their disputes - a fully-fledged tantrum to clear the air. He’d always thought it was kind of cute when tiny Elsa would go off on him with all of her Spanish temper. Realizing that they both enjoyed being a little rough with each other had been one of the attractions that had pulled them together. Elsa could take it, and she was handing it out, there was no harm done.

And the sensitive side of him had slowly been starving, because that was not how Elsa operated. What he completely and utterly craved when he was with Tom was how sensitively Tom would handle his fragile soul; that he could actually bare it with him. But being more open to feeling his own emotions apparently came with a downside. He had no defense against the barrage of guilt and remorse that his own actions caused in him, and he had no experience with handling this at all. So he was clinging desperately to Tom, who was also completely overwhelmed with having to handle a second person’s feelings on top of his own. Truth be told, Chris had not managed to listen to a single thing Tom had had to say; he’d been too carried away by his own grief.

And trying to escape it by launching into an elaborate rescue mission that he could rather think about.

If he listened to Tom when Tom was hesitant to follow one of his schemes, that was probably a good place to start. If Tom was even talking to him any more now.

He sat with himself for another five minutes, trying to make sure he was not going on yet another quest to rescue all, no matter the cost.

Then he got up. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is working hard to reconnect with Tom.

Chris got up and approached the bedroom, his heart beating in his throat. Was he sure? Was he ready? He checked with himself again. Then he knocked softly. Again. No reaction.

Two things were possible. Tom was so pissed he didn't want to talk to him – but he had said that if he was finished lashing out at him, he'd be welcome, and Tom usually meant exactly what he said. Or...

Chris softly pressed the door open and tiptoed into the bedroom. The blinds were almost closed and Tom was curled up in bed, his back towards Chris, the duvet pulled up to his ears. The sight pulled him up short and took his breath away.

This was his Tom. His Tom whom he had done nothing but hurt today. His Tom, who'd had to curl up in bed, lonely, without him, on a day he'd looked forward to for the whole week. Their last Sunday without India. They'd wanted to spend it with nothing but each other.

_I have no idea where to start._

_Man up, idiot._

He didn't think it appropriate to just get into bed with Tom. He'd said too much and destroyed too much.

_Why on earth would you even still want to be with me?_

_Isn't that what you were trying to accomplish?_ He had to ask himself. _Have someone hurt you so you'd feel you got what you deserved?_

He had to put this right. He had to try. Not for his own sake, for Tom's.

He rounded the bed and sat down in front of it, watching Tom sleep. His brow was furrowed, he was dreaming. He hadn't slept well the night before, he'd said so himself. 

_I could just go use the punching bag downstairs for an hour. I think it would do me some good, honestly._ Then Tom would wake up and he'd be gone. _I can't do that._

He touched Tom's cheek, ran his thumb over his cheekbone. _I could just leave him a note. When he wakes up, he knows where I am and that everything is all right._

_He will know you're not there and only left him a note._

_The last note I left this man was after our first week anniversary. I'm not going to ruin that memory for him._

Chris sat back and crossed his legs under him. He was still so full of unrest, his thoughts chasing each other in his head. He wasn't sure if waking Tom right now would be good or bad. He seemed like he really needed his sleep, and from the looks of it, he'd just keeled over with exhaustion and sorrow. If Chris woke him, he could talk and assure him. If he didn't, Tom got his rest. There was no right decision to make here. Chris scooted around a little so he could lean against the bed and rest his head on his arm. His hand lightly touched the soft skin on the inside of Tom's elbow.

For the first time since he had left counseling the previous evening, he was just quiet with himself. He let the silence in the bedroom lull him, the ebb and flow of Tom's breath, the murky quality of light in the half-shaded bedroom.

_I'm so exhausted._ Now that his flight had been stopped, he could finally just be in the moment, not rush around and try to fix everything. Meeting Elsa again had been so real. He hated it that she was so afraid of him. He was usually a loving, kind man, or at least he thought so. Until today, apparently.

Tom had said, two nights ago, that he was usually only so upset when he knew he'd hurt someone and he couldn't live with it. That was pretty much it. He wanted to show Elsa that he still loved her, that none of his actions had ever been aimed to hurt her. What made him happy, broke her heart. That was the way things were right now. But the way she looked at him at the moment, and reacted to him, made him feel that he was a really bad person. He didn't feel like one. He was trying so hard to make things okay for everyone. That she was still afraid of him, and her frightened reactions made him bully her even more was so not him. He hated the person all of this made him. He didn't want to be bad. He wanted everyone to get along and things to be good.

He was also not trying to ignore or hurt Tom. He wanted to make sure everyone was alright. He wanted that Tom would see it the same way and helped him. But he'd been so upset about the counseling, and all the decisions he'd made without him. He was out to make things better and Tom was selfishly wanting him for himself.

"I love you so much," Chris said. He knew he hadn't heard a single thing Tom had said to him from the first time he'd got upset about how much time he would spend with Elsa and India the coming week. Of course he would do everything for them.

For a split moment, Chris could see his two lives overlap like two running movies. Trying to make sure Elsa and India were okay. And. His life with Tom.

And just like their first Saturday, when he had said over and over again, to Tom: "But I can't change how I feel," he could also not change how he felt now. Could he love Tom and still save his marriage? Could he love Elsa and keep Tom... no. He wanted Tom.

He exhaled. At least something that he was absolutely sure about. He wanted Tom. He really liked Elsa, he loved her in a way that he loved good, appreciated friends. He knew he wanted to keep her around; he liked being in her company; she had a twisted sense of humor that he really enjoyed and she was such a good mother to India. But even though they had hugged, and even though he still had feelings for her, they weren't of a romantic nature any more. He loved Tom.

Chris got up, and walked around the bed. He quickly stripped out of his warm jumper and joggers and then slipped under the covers on his side of the bed. He really wanted to see Tom's face, but he had to at least try this. He shivered under the cool duvet until he was warm, then scooted forward until he knew Tom would be able to feel the mattress dip behind him. The trick was not to wake him now.

Chris had never wondered this much about the placement of hands, legs, and his head when in bed with Tom. From the first time he'd woken up with Tom already in his arms, everything had come natural to them.

_I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. But you deserve being treated gently, and to know that I still love you and want to be with you._ Even though I'm broken and full of despair.

He stretched out a hand and put it softly against the middle of Tom's back. He knew that his role in Tom's life had to change. He wouldn't always be the person who could carry Tom through all difficulties, and there would sometimes be moments when he couldn't put him first. But he wanted to learn how to get through those times with Tom.

Very carefully, he moved his body closer until he could feel Tom's body heat all along his front. He nuzzled against the place between Tom's shoulder blades. His hand came to rest on Tom's hip. 

Tom mewled and shifted, and then turned around and curled up against Chris' shoulder, one arm and a leg slung over him.

"I love you, sweetheart," Chris said. He softly kissed Tom's forehead. Tom's arm tightened around him reaction, making Chris' heart swell with emotion. "I don't have all the answers, Tom, I'm sorry." He fell silent. He didn't want to wake him, after all. "But please know I love you," he whispered. "Forever and ever."

It made his own heart calm.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom woke eventually, about half an hour later. Chris had just leaned back and held him, touched by how sweet that moment was, how much peace was contained in it. He knew the moment of truth would come, but this was also true. Tom sleeping in his arms, and how good it felt.

He felt him wake up, draw a breath, come to. Chris loosened his embrace so Tom could scoot out of it if he didn't want to be held. At first nothing happened but Tom kind of stiffened, and then he heard him mumble: "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, should I let you go?" Chris asked. There was a moment of silence that Chris didn't know how to interpret. "I came in to talk and apologize but you were already asleep. I didn't quite know what to do but I didn't want you to wake up alone. You kind of rolled into my arms in your sleep," he added, his voice a gravely whisper. It was close enough to the truth, he hoped.

Tom let that go through his still sleep-laden mind. "Fair enough," he murmured. He cuddled closer, and at the same time seemed hesitant when he caught himself doing it.

Chris so wanted to kiss him and draw him closer, but he didn't yet dare to. "Tom, can we please start the morning over?"

The pause was way too long for his liking. Eventually, Tom shook his head.

"No?" Chris swallowed.

"Can we go back to when it was last good?" Tom asked instead.

"When was that?" Chris' voice was laced with fear.

Tom thought, and thought, way too long for Chris' liking. "When Benedict was here on Friday afternoon," he said. "He was making silly faces at India and played with her in the living room. She was giggling."

It felt like Chris' heart was dropping to the bottom of the ocean."Okay." What about when he had come home? What about them dancing in the kitchen? What about them making love? But he made himself be still and listen, even though it felt as if Tom was ripping his heart apart.

"When Benedict left and I gave India her bottle, she started to cry," Tom said, his arm cramping around Chris' body. "And cry and cry and cry and cry. I was really afraid she'd cry herself into a stupor. Her whole little body went rigid and she stopped breathing inbetween she was screaming so hard."

"That's bad," Chris said. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

"You should fall in love with Benedict, instead."

"No way. No way, Tom."

"She clearly loved him," Tom said.

"Tom." He was really afraid he would react the wrong way now, as India seemed to be the source of all of Tom's troubles at the moment. "Honey, can you listen to me now? Really listen?"

Tom's face finally appeared and he looked up at Chris, guarded, afraid to be hurt again.

"I'm sorry we left you alone with that," Chris said. "And with we, I mean Elsa and I, because neither of us gave you a number to call or any way to ask for help if you needed it."

"I really wanted to do well," Tom said. "I felt so helpless, and so sorry for her."

"Okay, here is a little known truth about babies: they do cry," Chris said. He tried not to sound condescending. Having been a father for six months now, and having had a lot of contact with babies and toddlers of all ages in his life, he just hadn't considered that this could be such a problem for someone who wasn't as used to it. "And they do cry with their parents, as well. Sometimes I hold her and she is so cross with me she almost twists off my arm. Then Elsa comes in and everything is well."

"No." Tom peeked up at him.

"Cross my heart, true story," Chris said. "Tom, she's just a little girl. She's been on this earth for six months now. We take her around a lot, she has a lot of people who take care of her and love her. But sometimes she gets overwhelmed or overtired. She does that with Elsa and me, too. There is no reason to take it personally. Honestly, she's not hating you. She just doesn't know you yet. Give her a little time, honey."

"Can we... take care of her together for a while, though?" Tom asked.

"Of course." He'd had no idea that Tom was so unsure. He must have really been half asleep on Friday, or had he simply not taken Tom seriously? "Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?"

Tom eyed him. "The whole second Dad thing," he said quietly. "I don't know how to make that work."

"Tom, take it at your pace," Chris said. "I'm so lucky you even want me with a baby. I want you to be involved, and I don't want you to feel left out."

"I'm not," Tom said. "Feeling left out, I mean. On the contrary, I... I feel like I'm doing way more than I'm comfortable with. Can I just watch you with her for a while to get a feel for what you're doing, and what she likes?"

"Sure." He knew how curious India was. If Tom wasn't coming after her, she would decide fairly quickly that an adult who wasn't at her beck and call was clearly unacceptable and do something about it. Actually, he was already looking forward to seeing his daughter wrap Tom completely around her little finger, as he knew she would. "And I'm sorry I said that I was envious of you talking with Elsa about India. If it makes you feel more comfortable around her, that's all that counts."

"Thank you." Tom seemed calmer and more upbeat now. He took a deep breath and actually smiled at Chris.

"Is that what troubled you all this time?" Chris asked.

"Yeah."

Why exactly didn't he have time for this again? Too tired. Too preoccupied. He sighed.

"That and..." Tom shifted uncomfortably. "Chris, what if I fall in love with her and then she's gone."

"Fall in love with...?"

"India."

"You're afraid of falling in love with India."

"She is pretty cute," Tom said. "And I've always wanted kids of my own. But she's yours, and Elsa's, not mine. What if I get used to having her around and then for some reason she can't be any more?"

Oh god. Despite what Tom was thinking he was saying, he was so ready to be a father. Or at least ready to play a very significant role in India's life. He wanted to. So badly. He was afraid of giving his heart away and then having it ripped out of his chest again later.

"I'll be happy to figure this out with you," Chris said. "Very happy. And I know how you feel, because right now, I don't even know if I will have her around, or how much."

Tom was quiet for a moment. "You must be pretty scared."

"I'm terrified, Tom." He hugged Tom tightly, and was happy when Tom didn't fight him off or flinch. "I have no promises to make at the moment. I can tell you that I don't intend on leaving you. If I will have India around, you will have her around. You'll be stuck with two bad-tempered Hemsworths. Good luck."

"Chris, what happened?" Tom levered himself onto his elbow and looked at him. "And I mean really, what happened? Why were we fighting like that?"

Chris grabbed a pillow and put it over his face. "I don't know," he said, muffled by the down. He knew what had happened. He was just so sick of fighting.

"Chri-is." Tom reached for the pillow and pulled it down so he could look at him.

"Where should I start?" Chris asked. "Would it be okay if I just said sorry for the whole thing? Because I am. Sorry."

"No." Tom swung up, out of Chris' embrace, to sit with crossed legs. "Chris, if this ever happens again, just like this... it can't. It absolutely can't."

"I know." He grimaced. "What if what I have to say is more of what you don't want to hear?" he asked. "What if I do want or need to talk about the counseling, and Elsa, and India?"

Tom looked at him. "I don't want to fight any more, either," he said. "I'm just so sad that this day... we wanted to spend it together. I was upset that that was suddenly not a topic any more. I still am. I'm still afraid that you'll be so preoccupied with your situation that there will be no time for the two of us all of next week. And that's unacceptable to me."

"We're getting into the same arguments again," Chris said sadly. "I don't want that."

"Me, neither." Tom made a sad face.

"I love you, Tom. I am trying so hard to figure this out. But I can't do it without you." He could see that Tom was tempted to launch into an argument about having been there all this time, if he had just noticed him. "I was to say funny enough, but it isn't funny at all."

"What isn't?"

"I hope you're not going to hate me..." Chris sighed. "I know you've felt left alone with your worries. I kind of feel the same way. I... I can see that I should have found a different way to tell you what had happened and what... no. I can see in your face that this is not what you want to hear." He reached up to stroke Tom's cheek. "I need you, too, Tom."

"It's taking away our day," Tom said stubbornly.

"Honey, I'm kind of desperate to... this is going to be our life, Tom. India and Elsa will be a part of it."

"But I don't feel like you're putting us first," Tom said. He could see the tears in Tom's eyes. Chris sat up.

"Honey, no. I am trying so hard..." He was so exhausted.

"You say you want me involved but I feel completely excluded from what is going on there," Tom said.

"I was trying to tell you about it."

"After the fact, Chris. After you'd planned our whole week away without asking me first!" Tom said accusingly.

"Please stop yelling at me, it's not making things better!" The accusations were flying so fast he could hardly follow. "Please stop yelling at me. I was alone with myself after counseling last night for four hours until you came home. The whole time I was thinking, _I want Tom, I want Tom, I want Tom_. And ever since you came back, you've been yelling at me. I'm sorry if I didn't make the decisions you hoped I would make. I'm sorry if I got carried away in the situation. But I am still here, and I want to make a life with you, and I want to figure out how that can work with all the commitments I have. Does that count for so little?"

For the first time, Tom was stopped in his tracks. "No," he finally said.

"We always knew it would be a tricky situation," Chris said. "Now I was faced with it yesterday, on my own. I did what I thought was right at that moment to make sure India would come back to me. You won't believe how much I wished you'd been there."

"I should have," Tom said.

"We can't keep apologizing and wishing things were different," Chris said. "I want this life, with you. I don't want to apologize for that. We've been together for such a short time, Tom. I'm sorry I made a mistake and got carried away. I don't want our relationship to fall apart over that. Please."

"It's just really hard to watch you grieve like that. And you know you tend to start lashing out when you are sad over hurting Elsa," Tom explained. "I've been the target a couple of times, and it feels as if you're punishing me for not being able to be together with Elsa any more. That's why I keep telling you, go back to her if this is what you want. No, it's okay," he held up a hand. "I think I've understood I'm stuck with you now..."

"As I keep telling you," Chris murmured under his breath.

"But each time you rediscover your feelings for her, I feel like you're giving me the short shrift."

"I'm not punishing you for not being able to be with Elsa any more," Chris said. "I think I'm lashing out at you, so you'll hit back – I'm the one who's looking for punishment, Tom."

"I don't operate that way," Tom said. "It just hurts. I'm trying to help you and you keep stabbing at me."

"I don't feel like I deserve to be helped," Chris said bleakly. "I'm just looking for someone to punish me like I deserve."

"You're not going to get it from me!" Tom said desperately. "It feels awful!"

Chris realized that he was just now getting a very good look at what his behavior was causing. Tom was usually getting icy, sending him away or, as he had done last, was slowly shutting him out, but this... Tom wasn't like his brothers, and he wasn't like Elsa. Chris lashed out at him to get his just dessert, and Tom was internalizing his attacks. He realized that he resented the way Tom dealt with emotions today, as he himself was so focused on pushing forward, solving things, and getting things done. He was trying to go past how he was feeling, and Tom was all about feeling it. Of course he had not considered making time for Tom in the coming week, because it would mean facing how he felt about it all, and feeling had been the last thing on his mind when he had pressured Elsa into giving him India every second day.

He leaned forward and kissed Tom, out of the blue. Tom let himself be kissed, luckily. He was a little confused, but he kissed him back.

"What's that for?" he asked, a little perplexed but not unamused.

"Putting up with me even though you wouldn't have to. Not throwing me out," Chris said. He kissed him again and scooted closer, and to his delight, Tom climbed into his lap, crossing his legs behind Chris' back. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey yourself," Tom said. "You have a lot to make up for?"

Chris laughed. "We have a lot to talk about, too," he said softly. His body was immediately reacting to having Tom so close.

"Chris, I love you so much," Tom exhaled. "Just let me love you, dammit."

"Heh." He stole another kiss, but he felt that they were clearly shifting into different territory now, into territory where making love was a very distinct possibility. "Like, right now?" he wanted to know.

"I've never loved anyone like that," Tom said. His hands were cupping his face now. "I'm only happy when we talk, and I can spend time with you. When you cut me out like that, it's like a physical hurt. I am not kidding when I'm telling you I need you like air."

"Oh." He found his own hands gravitate from the top of Tom's thighs to his back.

"Don't cut me out of your life," Tom said. "Please."

His body was already telling him to ditch the talking and make love already. "You sitting here like that is making it really hard to concentrate," Chris rasped.

"I'm doing it to get all kinds of concessions out of you," Tom said, amused. "Will you buy me a pony?"

"Okay." Chris leaned into another kiss.

Tom chuckled in his arms. "See, it works."

He didn't feel like he deserved this. He'd said some awful things to Tom, and the whole of next week and all of its complications were still so heavy on his mind. "Tom... honey..."

"Shut up and let me love you," Tom murmured into the next kiss. "Chris, you deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved by you. I need this. I need you."

"Oh God." He inhaled sharply, knowing that if he opened up to that right now... it would mean having to feel everything. "I'm scared."

Tom immediately let off, just held him and rubbed his back. "Chris, that is bad. If we can't make love because you're scared, something is very wrong."

"I don't want to keep hurting you," Chris said. "What if I lash out at you again?"

Tom went still. "I'm trying to translate that backwards," he said after a moment. "Does that mean you still feel you should be punished?"

Even that was almost too much. He shrugged.

"There's nothing I can do about that," Tom said. "I can only love you when you let me."

"Tom you're still upset about me going to counseling, and making all these decisions without you," Chris said.

"I was desperate to have your attention," Tom said. "I was desperate to be with you."

Now it was Chris who leaned in to kiss him again. "I want us to be good again."

"Me, too."

"But some things will change, and I'm afraid you'll keep being upset with me," Chris said. "I want to learn how to do this with you."

"Me, too." Tom's hands slid around his shoulders and Tom hugged him, leaning his head against Chris'.

They just stayed that way for a very long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry I'm such a sucky conversationalist at the moment. Another busy week, and every free moment goes into writing.


	14. Chapter 14

Eventually, Tom took a deep breath and sat up without looking at Chris.

"I don't know how to do this," he said, his voice nearly toneless.

"Hm?" Chris’ hands unconsciously shifted up Tom’s sides.

"Stop loving you. I don't know how that is supposed to work."

"Oh."

"Honey, you're asking me to... I don't know what you're asking me to do. Just that... I really need you. And I really miss you."

"Tom." Chris exhaled, and he found his arms wrapping tighter around his lover's back.

"Can you..." Tom sat up straight, so he could look at him. His eyes searched Chris', his fingertips tracing his face.

Chris found himself stretching into the caress. "Can I what?"

"Do you think you could put aside, for just one moment, everything that troubles you, and just see me?" Tom asked. When Chris hesitated, he went on: "Assuming that, within the next five minutes, nothing truly horrible will happen if you are not paying attention to it right now."

He actually gave it a thought. Would Elsa's opinion of him change? No. The likelihood that five minutes would make a difference in him solving this puzzle? Slim.

"Chris, please...?"

He knew that sound of voice. Pleading, soft. At the end of his tether. Why did he always have to do this to Tom? The anger that welled up cut him off again from that tiny sliver of recognition.

"I am so... angry with myself," Chris said. "Angry that I keep hurting you. Angry that we can't come together, somehow."

"Look at me," Tom said.

"I don't deserve this," Chris said.

"I don't care. Look at me."

Chris lifted his eyes and did.

"Breathe."

Chris blew out a self-deprecating chuckle. "You can't be that gentle with me."

"I'm not going to keep pushing back, Chris. Come to me, please."

The little devil in the back of his head wanted to make fun of Tom, of his sincerity, of him reaching out, regardless of what Chris put him through. Was he so weak? Did he have that little of a backbone? _He doesn't work that way,_ an unbidden thought came up. _And you chose him because he doesn't._

"I don't know how to do this."

"Breathe. Look at me." Tom slid off his lap but stayed close, their knees touching.

Chris reached out and held his hands. Every part of him screamed bloody murder about how dangerous this was. "What if I break down?"

"I don't care," Tom said. "Like either one of us cares when the other cries."

"Yeah." It made him smile, and then immediately, he pulled himself out of it again. "I think I know why I keep lashing out at you, it's because what you offer is so damn dangerous."

"You better believe it," Tom teased gently.

Chris felt how a very tiny part of him went ahead and poured itself into that smile. He drew a sudden breath. Then another part of him followed the first. "Please don't yell at me?" Chris exhaled.

Tom shook his head. "I won't. I just want to see you."

"You're still upset about the decisions I've made," he pointed out cautiously.

"Not existing within these five minutes. Just you and me," Tom assured him.

"You'll yell at me later, though?" Chris asked.

"You'll lash out at me later?" Tom asked.

"I don't want to do that," Chris said. He pressed Tom's hands. "I don't want to hurt you."

"And I don't want to hurt you."

He could still feel his troubles, but they seemed more distant. What had they been doing? That wasn't how he and Tom were with each other. His head dropped, and he leaned forward. Here they were again, screaming at him.

"It hurts to watch you struggle," Tom said. "Honey, I'm here."

"This is so scary," Chris exhaled. "To be so vulnerable with you when everything hurts."

"Come to me, Chris," Tom beckoned him. "Come to me, honey."

"I'm sorry this is so hard," Chris said. "Please don't stop believing in me."

"God, no." He could see Tom's eyes fill with tears. "No."

"I want to be there but I can't find my way back to you," Chris said, surprised by what came out of his mouth. His hands cramped around Tom's, and then he leaned forward and kissed him, his lips pressed to Tom's, lingering, nothing audible but their ragged breathing. One of his hands wrapped around the back of Tom's neck and he held him close, pulled him deeper into the kiss. He was so desperate to connect with Tom, to feel something other than that everything slipped through his fingers and he couldn't do anything about it.

He felt Tom's hand against his stomach and heard himself moan – it sounded much more painful than aroused. He broke the kiss and looked at Tom, held his face in both of his hands. In the back of his mind, he felt everything that had happened the previous day rattle its cages and demanding his attention – his unfinished business with Elsa, longing for India, wanting to know that she would come back to him, for sure. Then he pulled Tom's shirt out of his pajama bottoms and found no resistance when he discarded it swiftly over Tom's head. In turn, his shirt was torn off his torso, Tom's hands stroking upwards from his navel, over his nipples, to his neck, pulling him into another kiss.

This time, it was a real moan. This time, he wrapped Tom into his arms and pulled him to lie on the bed with him, facing each other, kissing, both gasping when their naked torsos met. He'd never wanted this with Tom, being intimate for other reasons than that they loved each other, and wanted to express it this way. And now here he was, grasping for straws, finding that Tom's hard cock against his hip grounded him in a way that nothing else had so far.

"Please," he gasped. "Between my legs... Tom... please."

And Tom, purveyor of the prolonged lead-up to making love, of being connected and loving, tender and teasing, immediately followed his lead in pulling his bottoms off unceremoniously, and, without any preparation whatsoever, lead his cock between Chris' legs and roughly pulled Chris closer by his ass.

Chris hissed. Chris moaned. Chris arched into Tom's body, relishing the no-nonsense beat of Tom's hips into his own. He found himself rolled onto his back, Tom undulating on top of him, his hands on both sides of his head. They kissed while Tom's cock kept coming between Chris' legs, insistently, hot, the tip leaking copiously enough to make its brushing against his perineum arousing rather than irritating. Chris pulled him down into a kiss, letting his hands travel down Tom's back. Between them smiling at the familiarity of it all, and the way Tom's lower body pressed and pulled against his cock with each move, he began to feel that he actually arrived in the moment, in being here with Tom.

As if he sensed it, Tom slowed down and took his time to very meticulously run a line of kisses down Chris' neck, along his collar bone and into the indentation in the middle.

"Are you here with me?" he asked.

"Yes."

There was a particular shine to Tom's eyes.

"What is it?"

"Let me have you from behind," Tom rasped.

"What?"

"Let me take you apart, Chris."

"Fuck. Tom, I haven't even... I'm not..." Oh god. The mere thought had him so aroused he felt he needed to come on the spot. "Tom."

"Let me remind you who you belong to," Tom breathed, his cock keeping up its lazy beat between Chris' legs.

"Tom..." He became very still and they just breathed into each other. Then Chris reached up for the headboard and turned, making sure that every inch of his body touched Tom's. This was completely insane. He knew he'd wanted to do this, sooner or later, but this was not the setting he had envisioned, and not the mood he thought would lead up to it. He felt Tom's kisses along his neck, and his hand stroking him soothingly. Then he lifted up and Chris heard the clap of the nightstand drawer, the rustle of a couple of condoms being shaken out of their packet, and wipes being freed. While Tom was busy cleaning himself quickly and rolling on a condom, Chris found himself pulling up his legs. His face buried into a pillow, his hands still grasping the headboard's lower rung, he presented himself on his knees. He was quite, quite ready for this.

He hissed at the first touch, but it was just Tom, cleaning him in preparation. The cleaning was followed by Tom's kisses, beginning at the top of his crack, pressing to his cheeks as his condom-clad hand brought the first dollop of lube to his hole, spreading it around gently. Chris pressed into the touch, willing Tom to breach him, finding the breath knocked out of him when he did. He rocked on Tom's hand, completely devoid of conscious thought, his body awash with sensation.

"You are always so ready for me," Tom rasped, his fingers delivering a second load of lube.

He felt them reach deep inside himself and he closed his eyes and moaned at the delicious intrusion. He was absolutely made for this; anal intercourse was something he relished and craved and he was so, so glad he had found a reason to fall in love with a man and have said man very willing to take him apart that way with a truly glorious piece of cock to boot. He felt Tom's fingers inside of him, curving downwards, finding his prostate, gently prodding it, circling it. There was nothing in Chris' universe except those two fingers. And then he shifted on his knees, finding himself presenting his ass as enticingly as he possibly could when Tom lined up with him, his legs pressing into Chris'.

There was no warning, just Tom's hand stroking down his spine, the other used as leverage on his hip as he pressed in. Now that they'd had a bit of experience with this, Chris had a better idea of what to do, how to lean into the breach, how to relax his muscles and actually open up by bearing down and.... _Oooooohhhh._ Finding himself slowly being filled with Tom's cock.

"Yes," he found himself say with conviction. It drew a chuckle from Tom.

"Yes?" he heard him murmur in his ear.

"Yes, deeper, Tom."

"You have such a hungry little arse," Tom said, relishing each word.

"I do," Chris said demurely. He was filled to the brim as thanks, and he smiled. "More."

Tom laughed. "Scoot up, baby. Take the upper rung."

Chris did as he was asked, his torso now at a higher angle than before. Tom had to scoot with him and slipped out a little, just to take him deeply again as soon as Chris had settled. His hands gripped the headboard beside Chris' hands, and he started working him deeply, his hips grinding into Chris' as he slowly fucked him.

"So good." Chris licked his lips.

"Just trying to remind you," Tom murmured into his ear. "Who is doing the good things to you."

It made Chris grin and he turned his head to look at Tom. The next thrust knocked the breath out of him, and the next, and the next. He realized he had to concentrate on receiving Tom or he'd be knocked off his knees. He relished it, though, Tom being so insistent on claiming him, leaving him no moment to forget who was penetrating him, letting him know with absolute certainty that he was his, and no doubt about it.

"I wish you could come into me," Chris expelled on a breath at several hard thrusts.

"Later," Tom groaned.

"Fill me..." Chris moaned.

"Not there yet." He felt Tom laugh against him. "You're not done yet." He changed his stance and shifted backwards, taking Chris with him. "Ass up, love." He pressed Chris' shoulders down.

Chris was surprised how willing he was to follow Tom's commands. And how fucking rewarding it was when Tom pulled out a little and changed his angle, and each of his shallow thrusts brushed right over Chris' prostrate. He completely lost track of time and space, he existed solely around Tom's magnificent cock, and the sensations it produced, and the tip of his own cock sliding over the bed sheet with each thrust and how his orgasm started coiling in his abdomen and his toes started to curl and how Tom's hips picked up their beat at a much faster pace, and how he clawed at the sheets and babbled complete nonsense and begged, _begged_ Tom to make him come, make him come... and then how he cried out when Tom shoved his big cock home, and home again, and home again, and how they came, exactly at the same time, their hands so tightly entwined their knuckles turned completely white.

Tom kept up with his shallow thrusts even when Chris whined and begged him to stop because he was so overstimulated.

Finally, Tom remembered that he was wearing a condom, and what followed was a rather undignified end to their glorious fucking when he had to dig around to grasp the edge of the condom and pull it out with his rapidly softening cock.

"Shit," Tom swore while Chris was collapsing with laughter. "Literally. This was fun but I prefer you clean." He gave Chris an evil look as he awkwardly disposed of the condom. He didn't want to touch it, so some of its contents trickled onto the bed sheet when he enveloped the condom in a wipe to dispose of it. Tom kept swearing and rolling his eyes, much to Chris' mirth.

"Stop laughing." Tom gave him a healthy swat on the rear, making Chris laugh even more. "God, I can't even give you a good ribbing, my hands stink!" he complained.

Chris captured him around his middle and pulled him down, and into an embrace. "Shut up," he said fondly.

"Chris I'm... oh my god, did you just pull me into a puddle of your come?" Tom glared at him. "You are so much fucking work!"

"I love you," Chris said fondly, nuzzling against Tom's cheek. "I love you."

"Um... okay?" Tom was awkwardly pleased, his arms around Chris' neck, his hands stuck out at odd angles because he tried not to contaminate Chris.

"You're so funny and so kind and so sexy and awkward and such a great dom," Chris went on.

"Dom what?" Tom pulled a face. "Hey, who is tying up who here?"

"And who is telling who to tie them up?" Chris rumbled good-naturedly. "Who is telling me they want to be taken from behind?"

"You take me plenty," Tom said, obviously charmed by Chris' words.

"Uh-huh. You let me do it to stroke my male ego, but really..." He shook his head at Tom, very amused. "I love you, Tom."

"I love you, too," Tom admitted. "Even though you get me into all these awkward situations and I get more contact with body fluids than I ever wanted."

Chris shut him up by kissing him softly, and then a little deeper.

"Dirty," Tom finally meeped. "This is lovely, but please let me wash up."

"Since it's me you have sticking all over you, allow me," Chris said. He gave Tom a last peck on the lips and got up.

"You also stick all over the bed," Tom complained.

Chris laughed.

A few moments later he was back with a warm washcloth and a hygienic wipe. While Tom cleaned his hands meticulously, Chris rolled him over and washed the come off his flank, and then carefully cleaned his cock.

"What's that sound?" Tom mumbled, obviously enjoying Chris' ministrations.

"I'm running a bath for us," Chris said. He peppered Tom's lower abdomen with soft kisses while he cleaned him, and Tom's cock was already taking an interest again.

"Are you still... ah... calling this cleaning?" Tom asked.

"Once you're in the bath, yes." Chris placed a fond kiss on the head of Tom's cock, and then ran his tongue around it. "Just checking if I did a good job."

"Ooooh..." Tom made, his hand burying in Chris' hair. "I shouldn't enjoy it, but I do."

It was obviously too early after his last orgasm for him to get fully erect again, but Chris still enjoyed licking and kissing him for a while before scooting up and enveloping Tom in an embrace.

"Bath?" Tom mumbled.

"I want to stay naked with you for a bit," Chris murmured into his ear. "Showering is too quick."

"Jockeying for a second time?" Tom asked fondly.

"And a third and a fourth," Chris whispered against his lips. He pulled a duvet over them and cuddled them in, feeling Tom moving closer into his embrace. "I love you, Tom."

"Hmmm..." Tom made.

"Look at me, honey." He smiled at Tom when he did. "I love you."

"As you keep saying." Tom smiled and raised a brow at him.

"Can't say it often enough," Chris said. "You can't hear it often enough." He kissed him again and pulled Tom's torso tight against his own. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Tom murmured, but Chris could hear the crack in his voice. "So much."

"I know, honey." He kissed his forehead, his nose, both cheeks, his eyelids, until he heard Tom giggle. "But you can only really hear it when we're like this, huh?"

Tom hid his face against his shoulder.

"It's okay now," Chris soothed, keeping him very close. "It's okay, now I'm here."

  
  


* * *

He'd thought opening up to Tom would mean his demons would have a field day with his vulnerable insides, but the opposite was true. Floating in the water, he concentrated solely on his lover, kissing and stroking him and showering him with appreciation that Tom soaked up like a sponge. Tom was lying against the tub rim, his long arms spread along the whole length of it, and Chris on top of him, making him the complete center of his world... and it felt so good. He kissed along Tom's neck as his hand gave Tom's cock a very slow, loving, intense rubbing, and Tom did nothing but move into his touch, and moan softly until he came with a gentle exhalation of breath and a light sheen of sweat on his brow.

Coming in water was always a bit problematic if you wanted to stay in it, but Chris had a towel on hand to transfer what he could capture into it. He gathered Tom in his arms after and they kissed lazily as Tom came down from his high.

"I have no words for how much I love you," Chris murmured against his lover's salty skin.

Tom hesitated before he looked into his eyes. "I just couldn't feel it," he said.

"I know." Chris kissed his brow. "You need this, don't you?"

"I need you," Tom said tonelessly. "If I can't feel you, it's... torture." He stopped and took a breath. "I probably shouldn't admit that, I... I must sound so clingy."

"You know I feel the same way," Chris murmured. "I always hate it when you retreat and I can't... when it seems that the Tom I know isn't there any more."

"Yeah."

"Hopeless saps, both of us." Chris hugged him tightly.

"It takes me so long to trust someone," Tom said. "To really open up. And with you, it was instant. The moment you kissed me... I just wanted to throw it all at you. When I'm with you, it feels as if who I am is okay – even all the scary and not particularly glorious places."

"I hear you." Chris said. He smiled sadly. "Do you know that you're a great antidote to me running around like a headless chicken, trying to solve everything at once?"

"Glad to hear it." Tom exhaled and turned a little in his embrace so he could kiss him better.

"Like being in the eye of the storm," Chris murmured, feeling his heart speed up. "Feeling really safe with you."

"Hmmmm," Tom hummed, his fingertips tracing Chris' chest.

"Let me guess you don't want to talk," Chris said, sounding amused.

"Just haven't got my fill of you yet," Tom murmured.

"Neither have I," Chris insinuated, waggling his brows.

"You." Tom laughed. "I'm not going to do that again until you're clean."

"Deal," Chris said, deepening the kiss. "I clean up and you... hmm... fill me up.... right?"

"If that's what you want...?"

"Yes." The mere thought had his cock twitching. "If I could brand you into my soul, I would, but having you come inside of me will have to do."

"Chris..."

"It just came out, I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Now it was Tom on top of him, kissing him deeply. "Please don't ever do that again, Chris. Please."

It seemed impossible that it had happened in the first place. "You need to teach me how, Tom. What you and I have is so different from everything I've ever had in my life. I get a shot of the old life and every bad habit is... _oh_..." Tom slowly started to move on top of him. "Every bad habit is just taking me over," he breathed. "Tom..." He lost track of the conversation when Tom took his cock between his thighs. He didn't think Tom would mind.

Obviously, talking could wait.

* * *

  
  


After two hours and a refill, they finally got out of the tepid bathwater. Chris wrapped Tom into a huge bath towel and hugged him from behind, nuzzling against his ear. "I know this needs to end some time and we have to face reality again," he murmured. "But can I tell you again, please, how much I love you, how much you mean to me, and how much you rock my world?"

Tom shivered in his embrace. "I want _this_ to be our reality," he said quietly. "Even as I'm saying this, my stomach is cramping with fear."

"Fear of what?" Chris swayed them gently from side to side.

"That you'll shut yourself off from me like that again," Tom said. "That you'll base your decisions on what you had with Elsa, instead of what you have with me, now."

Chris tried to place the emotion he had in reaction to Tom's words. "Everything I do is because of what I have with you, now," Chris said. "Everything." He felt Tom's ribcage expand with a sigh, and his heart sank. "No?" he asked. "Tom, I don't know what I'm doing wrong, why this doesn't work. I don't know why I can't reach you, how I... I want you to see that I'm... doing this for us." He blew out a breath. "I can feel how you retreat from me with every word I say," he said. "And it breaks my heart."

Tom went very still and then slowly turned around to Chris. "Let's get dressed," he said. "Let's order in and talk?"

Chris wordlessly pulled him closer and kissed him, desperate to keep the connection. Outside of this was chaos and separation. Inside of this was life.

"Chris." Tom wrapped his towel around both of them and their naked fronts touched. Chris pulled him as close as he could and soaked up the comfort Tom gave him. "Hey. Honey." Tom gently rubbed his back. He exhaled and relaxed somewhat. "It's okay. We're going to find a way."

"I'm really afraid you're going to leave me," Chris choked out. He'd had no idea that was in there before he said it. "I know it's difficult and I know I bring too much to the table and I know I'm not handling this well."

"Yeah," Tom said softly. "You're not."

"Just because I keep saying I'm staying doesn't mean I don't know that you could always just walk away," Chris said.

"So could you."

Chris shook his head. "I don't want to. I want to be with you." He held Tom desperately close. "I don't want this to have been the last time we've been together." The whole time they'd made love, it had felt so desperate, like Tom was inhaling as much as he could because he knew he'd have to let him go afterwards.

"Chris."

"I know I'm taking too much out of you," Chris said. "I know I want too much."

"Chris, you've got to make a decision," Tom said. He leaned back and looked at him. "You can't be in a relationship with me, and in a relationship with Elsa at the same time."

"I've already made that decision." Chris felt like crying, suddenly it seemed everything was slipping through his fingers. "All I'm doing is so I can keep India in my life. And I do feel like I need closure with Elsa so I can fully be with you. I don't want that fight with Elsa to drag on forever. I want a clean cut. I want to feel good about letting her go."

"How?" Tom asked. "She's your wife, you just left her for a man, only two weeks ago. You told her you wouldn't come back. How can that ever feel good?"

"I don't know!" Chris exclaimed. "I just want it to stop hurting so damn much!"

"Chris, if you can only be fully in our relationship when you know that Elsa is okay, that could be years," Tom said. "The more you wobble, the harder it is for her to just walk away and leave you behind, and this will drag on and on and on. I'm not signing on for that."

Chris shook his head, trying to think what to say.

"Honey, when I got home last night, and I saw you lying on the sofa in that getup, I just walked past you and went to the shower and I had a really harsh moment where I felt I was done with this," Tom said.

"Tom..."

"Honestly, I was just thinking, no, I can't take another thing. Not one more. I was fairly sure that the counseling had been eventful and there would be new developments that would be difficult. But even before I woke you and we talked about that, I was so desperate for a moment's peace, I had a huge crisis of faith. I thought, what am I doing? I wanted my old life back, single, into women, my family still talking to me, not supposed to be a father to a little girl that isn't even mine. And then we do talk and it keeps coming, how important Elsa is, how I'm supposed to adapt so easily to this, and how much time you wanted to spend with her and India. And all I could think was, when will it be my time? When will all of this end and we can start to relax a little, because... Chris, I'm out of steam. I'm trying so hard to be understanding, and so hard to make space for you in my life. I've turned my whole life upside-down for you and India, and that's been okay, as long as it was about us – but I feel I've hit a wall right now, and that wall isn't going to give. I'm at the end of my rope."

"Are you saying it's it over?" Chris' voice sounded tinny to his own ears. Tom was still so solid in his arms, and at the same time, he already felt like he was a ghost, a memory. He'd had no idea that Tom felt this way. Suddenly his whole behavior made sense – fighting so hard to get his attention, fighting so hard to be heard.

"I'm tired of coming to this point over and over again," Tom said. "Where I'm so overwhelmed all I want to do is curl up in a corner and cry. And instead of it getting better, it's getting worse every week. It's not that I don't understand that letting your family go isn't hard on you. I really, really do, and you know I support you where and when I can. But I can't keep up with you and I will stop trying."

Chris felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

"If you run circles around Elsa, I'm not going to follow," Tom said. "I'm not going to babysit India alone this week, however laughable you might find that."

"I didn't say it's laughable at all," Chris defended himself.

Tom shrugged. "I do know that babies cry," he said. "Just that I find your daughter so precious I don't want to do it to her if I don't have to, and there would be a solution."

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay."

"I guess the days you're in counseling I'm going to find something else to do to distract me," Tom said. "I can't sit at home and wait how you're going to deal with what's been going on in there."

"But I'm going to bring India home with me," Chris said. "I... I thought we could... spend time together with her."

"You never asked me if that was what I wanted," Tom said. "Three hours between your counseling and her having to go to bed is all we're going to have, minus the half hour it takes you to come back here from counseling. And we both know it's not going to leave you unaffected, and... I'm out of steam, Chris. I can't worry all day and then support you for six hours. And we both know it's going to be like that for most of the week."

"And you're already hitting the wall," Chris said.

"Yes. And it is Sunday, and most of this weekend has been really exhausting," Tom said. "I feel like I'm not getting any rest at the moment at all."

"Do you want me to leave?" Chris asked.

"There must be some other way of us being together than either being in complete heaven or asking each other if they want to leave," Tom said.

"Do you want to be alone?" Chris corrected himself.

"No. I want to spend time with you. I want to spend time with us," Tom said. "I want that all the time."

Chris drew a breath to say that they were, but then he clamped his mouth shut. Because the next thing he wanted to talk about was how he was supposed to figure out Elsa and India by himself. And a very firm voice inside of him told him that if he did that, he might as well hand in the house keys and leave.

It was an interesting moment, to feel his priorities snap into place like that. Because as much as he worried about his other situation, he had never had any intention to face it without Tom.

"Okay," he said instead. He'd already talked to Elsa today. India would not come visiting today but he would see her tomorrow. Tom was not exactly making him cancel his counseling, he just distanced himself from the repercussions... it would all have to wait. If he wanted to keep this man, he had to present with him, right here, right now. And honestly, judging on the last few hours, that wasn't so bad, was it? "Let's order in and relax."

"Really?" Tom said hopefully.

"Yeah." Chris cupped his face and smiled at him. "Just you and me."

The rest of the world would have to wait until tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Tom's week is off to a rocky start.

"Things are getting more real with Tom," Chris said into the phone. "We had a major clash over the weekend."

"Are you two okay?" Fiona wanted to know.

"I think so. I don't know." He brushed a hand through his hair.

It was Monday morning and Chris was on his commute to the studio. Tom had actually had an earlier call, so he was alone in the car, which allowed him some privacy. Andrew had closed the partition without asking why. Sometimes privacy in the morning was a thing you just needed.

"You don't know?" Fiona asked. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Not really. Grown-up stuff." Chris grimaced. "I'm still not through it, to be honest. I think I made a mistake, but it felt like the right thing to do, so right now, I'm not really sure what will happen next."

"You're being very vague."

"I know." He smiled. "Just wanted to hear your voice and apologize for being so short on Saturday."

"Chris."

"Mom, I can't... I know what you will say. So what's the point in saying it?"

"Then why did you give me a call?"

"I'm... _Mom_." He shook his head.

"Heard anything from Elsa?"

"No. I may see her today when she comes to pick up India," he said. "India's coming to daycare on the set today, so I get to see her." He was excited about that. "I'll probably stay late so I get to spend some time with her."

"It's nice to hear you so excited about being her Dad," Fiona said.

"Yeah." He grew quiet again and then plunged ahead. "Tom isn't, though."

"Not excited about you being India's Dad?" Fiona asked, puzzled. "That doesn't sound like Tom."

"No... about..." He exhaled, frustrated. "I'm sorry. Grown-up stuff again."

"Chris," Fiona said. "This is more torture than you not calling at all."

"I'm messing it up," Chris said. "That's the whole truth of it. I want to do the counseling, but Tom isn't on board. I want us to care for India together, but after this weekend, he doesn't want to take care of her on his own for a while, until they got used to each other."

"That sounds reasonable, though," Fiona said.

"Yeah. Fine." He pouted. "She's not a complicated child, and it's making things unnecessarily difficult."

"Who spit into your soup?" Fiona asked. "Chris, listen to yourself."

"I'm just so frustrated," he huffed. "I don't know why this is suddenly all so complicated."

"You're unkind," Fiona pointed out.

"I know. And I can't seem to snap out of it. The fact that Elsa and India are in town and I need to deal with them on a daily basis makes me feel like I have an army of ants under my skin."

"That's understandable," Fiona said. "But is it worth agonizing Tom for?"

"I think I just want him out of the way until I've dealt with Elsa," it burst out of him. "I can take care of him later when all of that is through and things calm down again."

It was quiet for a moment. Then Fiona said, "Why exactly has that saint of a boyfriend of yours not thrown you out this weekend?" she asked. "I certainly would have."

"You're taking his side," Chris pouted.

"You better believe I do!" Fiona said. "Good Lord, Chris. You're judgmental, unkind and unfair. What's wrong with you?"

"Maybe it's what I need to do," he defended himself. "Maybe it's all I know what to do. I know I'm doing everything wrong right now but I just can't help it, okay?"

"Do you want to lose Tom?"

"No! Why does everyone think that's what I want?" He remembered that Andrew might be able to hear him and lowered his voice. "I love him and I want to be with him. I keep telling everyone that, the counselor, Elsa, Tom, you. Why does no one believe me? I just need to get through this rough patch and it'll be fine."

"You're a team now," Fiona pointed out. "You and Tom need to work together."

Chris almost said something unkind about Tom's apparent inability to see that, but he didn't mean to badmouth him. He could see his point and knew he wasn't wrong about feeling overwhelmed. But he needed Tom's support, too, and the fact that he would not give it to this glorious plan of his made him moody and angry. 

"Mom," he said instead, "I need to finish, we're almost at the studio."

"Saved by the bell, then," she said. "All right."

"Can we talk next after counseling?" he asked. "I don't think Tom will want to."

"Make it good with him," Fiona urged. "You two need to work these things out. You need him on your side in this. Make sure he is."

"Yes, okay. Sorry, got to go! Bye!" He felt like an idiotic 17-year-old when he hung up on his mother.

He sat brooding in the backseat for the remaining 15 min of his commute, arriving at exactly no new idea whatsoever.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chris' first stop was Alan's office, but he, of course, was on the dungeons set to direct Tom and Rene. Chris asked a runner to fetch him Keith, the third A.D., and walked over to Hair-and-Make-Up to get him ready for the day's work. It wasn't until he was already dressed in costume that Keith told him that Alan had a moment of time for him. Chris was due on the stunt set in ten minutes, so he made sure he hurried.

In a few short sentences, he explained the situation: that Elsa was in town for the week, that he had to leave earlier on two days, and that he would be happy to make up for it on the others, or come in earlier.

Alan nodded and made some notes. "I'll walk it through with Keith – tomorrow shouldn't be a problem," he said. "We need to see how to place you in the shots with Natalie, though, so Thursday may be trickier. We want to get through that in one fell swoop."

"I understand," Chris said. "It's really just this week."

Alan pushed his glasses up his nose. "Does Tom need time off, as well?" he asked casually.

"Um... what?" Chris blinked, confused.

"I'm just asking," Alan said. "With you being... roommates and all that, is he in any way involved and needs to support you...?"

What was Alan saying? Chris shifted. "Eh... better ask him, yourself," he squirmed – which wasn't easy to do in superhero armor with a breast plate.

"I'll take him aside later," Alan said benevolently.

"Um... thanks?" Had Alan just asked him if there was something going on? Was he assuming there was?

"Sure." Alan nodded. "I'll have Keith deliver the updated call sheet to you later in the day."

"Thanks, Alan, I really appreciate it."

Even on his way back to the set he was still puzzling over the director's reaction.

 

* * *

  
Heidi handed Tom Chris' note when they broke for lunch. It read: "Spending lunch with India today. Come join us?"

Tom sighed, and refolded it. "When did he give it to you?" he asked.

"About ten minutes ago, but I saw him go to the lunch tent after, if you're looking for him?"

"Thanks. Go off, have lunch, I'll see you in an hour."

"Great, thanks!" His PA sped off.

"Everything okay?" Rene came up behind him.

"Yeah, yeah." He forced a smile. Around them, crew was resetting cameras for the next shot, the stage was busy. "Just need a moment."

She kept in step with him, and they left the stage together. It was another drizzly, cold day, and both shivered. "Lunch tent?"

"Meeting Chris." Tom held up the note.

"Hm." She continued on with him, then touched his elbow to get his attention. "Tom, what's going on with you two?"

"Huh?" He felt himself blush fiercely. "What do you mean?"

"Are you two okay?" she asked. "You don't usually make that face when Chris sends you a note."

"Yes, yes, everything's fine," he strained. Then he sighed. "Actually, it's not."

"I thought it wasn't." She took his hand and pressed it, and he let her, glad about the bit of tiny support. "Tom, I understand if you can't tell me anything..."

"It's just a very complicated situation," he found himself say. He had no idea he would say it. "And then I think it shouldn't be, it should all be really simple."

"Want to have lunch together?" Rene asked again. "I'm sorry, you just said you're meeting Chris."

"I guess a few minutes wouldn't hurt?" Tom asked.

"Excellent." She didn't let go of his hand and he found he didn't mind at all.

 

* * *

 

"I know you probably can't tell me anything," Renee said over the soup. They'd retired to her trailer for a bit more privacy.

"That's the worst thing," Tom said quietly.

"If you carry a secret but can't tell anyone?"

"If you carry a secret and it's a good secret, it's not so bad," he said. "But if the secret's making problems and you can't confide in anyone, it's getting really difficult."

"Tom," Rene said. She didn't have to say more.

He really wondered what he could say. They'd agreed, when they first got together, that they could confide in other people if they felt safe with them. He felt pretty safe with Rene, and the way she was talking with him made him suspect she knew something was going on, or at least made very educated guesses. But really, what exactly was the problem?

"I'm in a situation that started pretty good," he said. "But now it's getting very complicated and difficult and I'm not sure how to make it work again."

"Has the very complicated and difficult to do with a wife and baby showing up again?"

He just nodded.

"Is it changing things?" she asked delicately.

"It shouldn't, because we knew from the start..." He sighed and put down his spoon. "You probably know we're together, huh?"

"I kind of guessed it when the usual brotherly love was getting even more obvious," Rene said. "You two are the cutest creatures in the whole wide world when you're anywhere near each other. You were both having eyes only for each other and were practically glowing." She smiled. "Really cute."

"Really obvious?" he asked carefully.

She shrugged. "People do talk about him and Elsa breaking up and what a shame it is, but no one is saying anything about you two being together, at least not in my presence. Do you want it to come out?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"Is it... did you know before?"

"No, we just fell in love now." He smiled sadly. "Crashed and burned, is more like it."

"Took you a while, huh?" she asked compassionately.

He shrugged. "Trust me, it's something we've talked about a lot of times, and basically, this seems to have been the right time for us. It sucks when it comes to Elsa and India, though. And it is really hard to make it work. I didn't think it would be so hard." The unbidden image of him holding a desolate Chris while he sobbed over losing Elsa the previous day came to mind. He felt himself shut down on it.

"Good lord, that's hard to watch," she said.

"Just been a really tough weekend," he murmured, picking up the spoon and emptying the rest of his bowl. He reached for his sandwich. "You know, it's really hard when you fall in love with someone who is such a family man and loves his wife and child so much," he said without looking up. "That's part of what I love about him, you know? But when it comes down to it, I want him to love me first." His voice faltered. "And this weekend, I just wasn't sure."

"He has to make a decision," Rene ventured.

"He keeps making it," Tom said. "He's really taking it hard, Rene. Now that they're back, it's all so real, and he's trying so hard to take care of them."

"He should take care of you."

"They're his wife and child."

"And what are you?" she asked compassionately.

"I don't know!" The whole turmoil suddenly bubbled up again. "He says all the right things, but in here," he thumped his heart. "In here it doesn't feel right."

"Is Elsa going to stick around?" Rene asked.

"No, she's leaving for six weeks next Saturday, and we are keeping India while she's gone," Tom explained.

"And you can't wait for her to disappear to figure it out?"

"I feel like... it should be clear who he wants even when Elsa is in town," he said. "I can't live in constant fear each time she comes back!"

"No." She sighed. "I can see how that would not be good."

He stared at his sandwich, then looked at her. "Rene, I'm sorry, I think I need to go. Thank you so much for listening, though." He got up and kissed her cheek. "Would you mind very much to keep the whole thing to yourself for a bit longer, though?"

"Of course. My lips are sealed." She hugged and kissed him back. "Take your sandwich."

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. I'll see you in a moment."

"Go get him," Rene said.

"Oh, I don't... ah." He felt himself blush again. "Not helping."

Rene just laughed.

 

* * *

 

His heart sank the closer he came to the nursery. There was always so much riding on every encounter with India. Chris expected so much, and he was afraid he would keep disappointing him.

He found Chris on the floor in the "quiet room", India in his lap, reading a picture book to her. He looked up and smiled when Tom came in.

"Hey. Glad you could make it."

"Yeah." Tom sat down beside them. "Brought my lunch. Hi India."

She bounced on Chris' lap and pointed at her book.

"You're reading, huh?" Tom said. "Hope the book is good."

"Company just got better," Chris said quietly.

"I just came out to Rene," Tom said. "Sorry."

"Oh." Chris stroked over his daughter's head. "How'd that go?"

Tom shrugged. "Good, I guess."

They looked at each other. Tom took a bite of his sandwich.

"I can't touch you right now," Chris said quietly. They were alone in the room with India, but it had large windows and a glass door, and it was very likely that the staff would look in on them occasionally. "But if I could, I would kiss you and ask you to sit very close and hold my hand."

"How are you doing?" Tom asked, not really knowing how to respond to that.

"It's always good to have her around, makes it more real that she's not off who-knows-where with her mother," Chris said. "How are you doing?"

Tom knew he couldn't hide the doubt in his expression. He waggled his hand.

"What is it?" Chris asked quietly.

Tom took another bite and thought while he chewed. "You know," he finally said. "I don't even know how to answer that question because if I was honest about it, I wouldn't know how you'd react. I'm afraid if it was a bad reaction, you'd be upset again. If you were upset, we'd be dealing with that, not with how I feel."

"Be honest about it?" Chris asked.

Tom gave him a look.

"I don't want to do this without you," Chris said, rocking India. "And I know you were on board with it. It was really strange, when I went to see her just now, and something was missing. And it was you."

"You still want me to babysit tomorrow, huh?" Tom asked.

"You think I'm saying this to sway you?"

Tom shrugged.

"Tom, can we start over?"

"Depends on how your next counseling goes, I guess," Tom said.

"Do you want me to stop going?"

"Hah." Tom shook his head. "That's not my decision to make. It's yours."

"Be honest, Tom, please."

"After the fallout from the last one?" Tom raised a brow at him. "What am I supposed to say?" He sighed. "Rene is going to have a dinner tomorrow night after her wrap. Nothing fancy, but she asked me to come. Wants you, too."

"One of us needs to go," Chris said. "I'll be sure to get her flowers for tomorrow."

"It means you'd be alone after counseling," Tom said.

"Well, you didn't really want to be there, did you?" Chris seemed honestly sad and introspective about it. There was no reproach in his voice.

It touched Tom, and he wished it didn't. He'd begun to weave a protective shell around his heart again, and he didn't want Chris to take it down just so he could hurt him again as soon as Elsa was in the picture. "Chris, what am I supposed to say?" he said. "We talked about everything yesterday. Multiple times, from multiple angles. It is what it is."

"I'm sorry."

"I want to trust you. I want us to start over. But I am very apprehensive about it. Give me a little time to see how it goes." He finished his sandwich and brushed off his hands. 

His eyes fell on Chris again, leaned against the wall, with India in his lap. He looked lost. The aftereffects of the weekend were still palpable when Tom realized he could watch it with detachment, without feeling he needed to jump in and make it better right away. Maybe that was good. Maybe this was what Chris needed. He'd been going on about wanting to be punished. Maybe just feeling the consequences of his actions was what he was looking for. 

Tom wished it didn't mean he'd have to look at the consequences of his own actions, as well.

He sat with his knees raised and his arms slung around them. The fact that they couldn't kiss, couldn't even touch, wasn't making things easier at all. Touch always calmed them and gave them a way to connect. Given the choice between spending his lunch hour in the privacy of his trailer with Tom, and spending it in a public place with India, Chris had chosen India. Tom could see why, but not being able to touch was a consequence they both had to live with right now.

"This kills me," Chris finally said. "I want us back."

"What time will Elsa be over to pick her up?" Tom asked.

"Tom, it can't be like that!" Chris was really desperate now.

Tom flinched. "I'm just asking a question."

"Around six."

"Are you going to stay until she picks up India?"

"I'd hoped to have a quick word with her about tomorrow, yes," Chris said, but his face said that he understood that this may be a mistake. "Since you won't take India, we'll have to make different arrangements. That's all I want to talk to her about."

"Okay." Tom shrugged, but his stomach cramped.

"Would you rather I'd not? Then I won't."

"Then you'll think about it for the rest of the night, that you weren't spending time with India as long as you could. It's not worth it."

"Tom, please help me with this."

"I can't." He shook his head and scooted backwards. "I can't."

"I'd hoped you could pick me and India up tomorrow," Chris said, sounding like he knew he was making a last, desperate effort. "I really don't want to be on my own after the counseling. It would help to know you're waiting."

"I can't," Tom said. "I need to be at Rene's dinner."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

" _Tom._ " Chris reached out for him. "Please. Tell me what to do to make this better."

"Just get your shit sorted," it burst out of Tom. "Get your priorities in order, get your things in order. Stop trying to pull me into your shit because you don't want to do it alone and then abandon me when I don't suit you." He turned towards India, whose lower lip was quivering with his outburst. "Hey, India, I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you."

She looked at his hand, encased in the menacing dark leather he wore as Loki, and started crying.

"Okay then, I think I better leave you two alone." Tom got to his feet. "I'm just making her cry."

"Tom, she's just startled and tired, please come back."

"I'll see you later." He knew he was fleeing. He didn't care.

 

* * *

  
They didn't see each other for the rest of the day. Chris was busy at the stunt set, Tom was encased in the dungeons. Chris threw himself into the work and they wrapped at four. The next day required a different set that had not been dressed for today, so they all finished early, a welcome respite after the rigors of the past two weeks.

It took an hour to get him out of his make-up and costume. He used the time to talk with his PA about the proper gift for Rene for the coming day. If it was possible, he wanted to be there when she wrapped, if it wasn't, at least say goodbye to her while she was still on the set. It would be hard to do either way, because he had to leave early for his counseling. Any way you turned it, someone fell short. He could not do it all.

He headed over to the nursery afterwards, happy to find India was still there. He'd inquired, Tom was also wrapping and getting out of make-up and costume, so they should be able to leave the set together later. Chris still needed to lift weights, and Tom had decided to accompany him. Chris knew if he would go lift now, they could go home when Tom was done, but for as much as he loved Tom, he really wanted to spend some time with his daughter.

Having to choose between the two was simply impossible. Even at lunch-hour, when Tom had left so suddenly, distraught, he could not go after him as much as he wanted to, because his daughter was in his lap, crying. He couldn't do so many things when they were on set, like send him a rose to apologize to his trailer. Everyone would see, everyone would know. He could send notes, but he was doubtful Tom would read them right now. But he could not choose between Tom and India. All he could do was trust that Tom knew this was what he had to do, and that the part of Tom that was looking out for lost children like himself knew that he was doing the right thing. All he could do was keep inviting Tom to be a part of it.

India was playing with her teacher when he came in. Other children were already being picked up, and the teacher was happy to hand India over. Chris bounced her and threw her until she screamed with laughter. He took her over to the toddler area and let her ride on the swing, which she loved. Chris made a mental note to get her one for Christmas.

He was almost surprised when Elsa suddenly turned up. She was already in front of him when he realized she was standing there, and India had been so immersed in their play that she had missed it, as well.

"Sorry to have to disturb you two," Elsa said. "I see you're having fun."

"Oh. Hey!" He smiled at her and stood awkwardly, wiping his hands on his jeans. Should he hug her? Shake her hand? "I hope you don't mind." In the end, he did neither.

"No. Hello, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_!" She clapped her hands and picked up the beaming child. "Did you have fun with Daddy?" 

India clapped and grinned, and bounced on her mother's arm. "Da!"

"Yes, that's daddy, you're right! You smart girl." She kissed her daughter's head. "Has she been good?"

"We visited during lunch and I've been here since we wrapped," Chris said. "Thank you for bringing her."

Elsa just nodded. "I'll have her all day tomorrow, though," she said. "But if you could take her to day care on Wednesday morning? I have an audition. I would pick her up sometime during the day."

"Sure. Could you let me know what time you're coming to pick her up?"

"I'm thinking around three. I would let you know if that changes."

"I would love to spend lunch with her again," Chris said.

"That shouldn't be a problem."

They both smiled tentatively at each other. It was the first time they had managed to be civil when it came to who had India when.

"Can I ask how you've been?" Chris said. "Or would that be inappropriate?"

She shrugged. "Busy. Production meeting today, which is good. Glad to have the day off tomorrow to spend with India. You?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sounded like you got into trouble yesterday."

"Eh." It felt really uncomfortable now. "Yeah, um... Tom can't babysit tomorrow while we're in counseling. We'll need to find some other way to do it."

"I'll ask Becky," Elsa offered.

"Are you... have you talked to Tom about your babysitting lesson?" Chris asked.

"I asked for him a moment ago. They said he'd already left." Apparently, she read his face fairly well. "And I see you didn't know that." She studied him for a reaction.

"No," he had to admit. "I'll catch up with him later."

"Because of us?" she asked, pointing towards her and India.

"Because he knows you don't want to see us together yet, and he respects that," Chris ventured. He didn't want to discuss Tom with Elsa. Really not. "And I wanted to spend as much time with India as I could today, and he understands that, too." He hoped.

"You really don't deserve that man," she said.

"I really don't deserve quite a few things," he replied. He noted that his patience was wearing thin now. "Can I dress her before you leave?"

"If she lets you?" Elsa handed her over again and Chris carried her out to the hallway, where the children's things were stored in little cubicles.

"I'll give her a quick change and get her into street clothes," Chris offered. "We'll be right back."

"Okay." That Elsa let him leave with India on his arm was probably a good sign.

  
By the time he was back, he found Elsa talking to one of the teachers, presumably about the schedule. The teacher – known as Miss Rose – smiled at him when he came back and sat down on the tiny bench to dress India in her warm baby jacket and little boots and hat.

"Elsa just told me that she's leaving next Saturday for a film, how exciting," Miss Rose said. "Will you need to bring in India daily then? I would have to let the staff know."

"I already told her we'll be bringing her Wednesday," Elsa supplied.

"Friday?" Chris asked while he fit the wriggling child into her coat.

"It's my last day with her, probably not," Elsa said.

"Put her down for next week, then," Chris said. "I'll be out on location, though. We'll have to see how we'll manage getting her here every morning."

"Tom?" Elsa ventured.

"Eh... let me talk to him," Chris stalled. "Otherwise I'll just bring her over first."

"I'll let production know to send us your call sheet," Miss Rose said. "So we know when to expect her."

"That sounds great, thank you so much."

"My pleasure. It was nice seeing you again, Elsa. Good luck on the audition!"

"Thanks." Elsa waved her goodbyes when Miss Rose left. "I'm really glad she takes care of India."

"Yes, she's very good with her." The baby all wrapped up, he handed her back to Elsa to get his own coat on. "Mind if I bring you to the car park? I'm heading that way myself." He remembered his sports bag and shouldered it.

"Okay."

They left the nursery together, side by side. India strained to be on his arm again, and Elsa handed her over. India cuddled up to his shoulder and played with the buttons on his jacket. It seemed quite normal to walk with them, and they were greeted by a few people who looked at them curiously.

"Hm, rumor mills are going to be churning again tonight," Chris murmured.

Elsa shot him a look. "Are you and Tom out here?" she asked.

"No." Chris shook his head.

"Why not?"

"You never know who can't keep their mouths shut, there are too many people working here," Chris said. "We'd wanted to wait until... no one wants to humiliate you, Elsa. And we're not ready to come out. Life is complicated enough as it is right now."

They reached her cab, which had been waiting for her to return.

"You know what?" she said. "I really appreciate that."

"Maybe when you're back from Romania, we can have a sit-down and see what we can come up with," Chris said.

"Yeah." She took India from his arms. The cabbie opened the door for them and she settled her daughter in the baby seat. India was already drowsy and didn't protest. Elsa gave her the floppy bunny she loved and then straightened again. "Um..."

"Will you try calling Tom, though?" Chris said. "For that babysitting lesson?"

"I'll do it on my way back," Elsa promised.

"I know he'll appreciate it," Chris said. "He's pretty worried about doing everything right with India."

"I'll call him," she said, sounding a bit irritated now. "You, me, tomorrow at four thirty?"

"I'll be there." He bent over to give her a one-armed hug. "And I'll see you tomorrow night, little lady," he waved into the car. "Be good for your mommy, all right?"

India clearly didn't understand what he was saying, but she waved back.

Chris watched Elsa climb into the car and closed the door after them. He stood until they had left the lot.

 

* * *

 

" _Where are you?_ "

"On my way to the gym, Chris. I have a yoga appointment at a quarter past six."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to interrupt your time with India and Elsa."

Chris wanted to growl with frustration. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right there."

"I'll be in the exercise room for the next hour or so," Tom said. "No need for you to hurry."

But he wanted to hurry. He finally wanted a chance to talk with Tom, and spend some time with. "I'd hoped we train together," he said. "I didn't know about this yoga thing."

"Well, you know now," Tom said. "I'm sorry, we just arrived. I'm already late, I need to go." He disconnected.

This was not what he wanted. He balled his fist as he turned off his phone.

"Off to the gym, apparently," he said to Andrew, who'd been waiting for him to find out where they needed to go.

"Trouble?" Andrew asked, as he climbed into the car.

"Misunderstanding," Chris said as he closed the door rather decisively. "I got held up and Tom already left."

Andrew gave him a look, and started the car.

 

* * *

  
Lifting weights was a miserable exercise tonight. Chris had been physically active all day, and felt it in his bones. He hated the fact that he already knew he'd be out like a light fairly early tonight because god, would he ever catch a break with Tom? He worked stoically through his required sets, glad that this gym was reserved for the stunt team and actors only. At least he didn't have to put up with having to be friendly to strangers, and most people had already gone home after a long day.

But the exercise helped him vent, and he was pleasantly pliant by the time he'd done everything he needed to do. He thanked his spotter and checked the time. It was seven fifteen, Tom should be done. Not wanting to make the mistake of missing him again, Chris took his water bottle and towel to wait for him in front of the exercise room.

Through the window in the door he could see that they were still at it. He fished out his phone and made a quick call, then pushed in.

Both Tom and his instructor looked up, and Chris made a sign that he would wait by the door.

"We're almost done," the instructor said. "A couple of minutes."

Chris used the time to find his own mat in the corner and stretched out a little. He always did after a workout, but doing more wouldn't do any harm.

When they were finally done, Chris collected Tom's bag and waited for him by the door. Tom gave him a funny look.

"What?" Chris asked. "I'm not letting you run again."

"I didn't run, I went to the gym as we'd said," Tom said testily. "Where you had to go, and I said I'd come along. You weren't finished, so I went ahead to keep my appointment."

"Tom..." They finally reached the locker room and Chris pushed open the door ahead of them. The room was empty. He dropped their things, let Tom come in after him and then pressed him to the door, his hands on both sides of his head. "Stop."

"I said I wouldn't follow if you had to run circles around Elsa, and I'm not," Tom said stubbornly.

"I wasn't running... forget it." Chris exhaled. "This has to stop."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Tom, we do have time for each other tonight and I want to spend it with you. Why do you keep insisting on walking away?"

"Because I'm second fiddle, again, even after I agree to follow your plans," Tom hissed. "You said you had to go to the gym and I said I'd come along, so we'd have more time together. The next thing I hear, you're waiting for Elsa to come pick up India. I'm trying to have time with you and you go and give it away to her."

"It took ten minutes," Chris said.

"The way you think is the problem, not the time it takes," Tom said.

"Why didn't you say anything during lunch?"

"Why didn't you think to ask me if it was okay with me?" Tom asked.

"I did," Chris said. "I told you I wouldn't do it if it wasn't okay with you and you waved me off and said it wasn't worth the trouble. Tom, honestly. Why did you make an appointment for six fifteen?"

"So I'd be out of your way when you met with Elsa," Tom said. "What else. She doesn't want to see us together so I wanted to be out of the way."

Chris slowly shook his head back and forth. "You've got to help me with this, Tom," he said. "I don't want to lose you. I can see it looks like I did everything wrong again today, but please don't... please don't construct it like I'm trying to insult you or put you last."

"Well, you're done with India, you're done with Elsa, now you're here with me," Tom said. "How much more proof do I need?" He made motions to push past Chris.

"No!" Chris banged his hands against the door. "You're not going anywhere. I'm finally in a room with you, undisturbed, and I'm not letting you get away again." Thankfully, Tom went still. "This had nothing to do with preferring one person over the other, but with availability. I knew India would only be in the nursery until six, so I took advantage of it. I asked you to join us. You chose to walk away."

"I was only scaring her anyway."

"You spoke loudly and she startled," Chris said. "It happens to the best of us. Stop telling yourself you're such a baby menace, you are not! And as for Elsa, it was ten minutes. _Ten minutes_. I wanted to leave the lot with you, ride the car with you, train with you. You've just cut an hour away from my night with you, and that's not acceptable to me." For the first time, it looked like he'd got through to Tom, so he let up on pressing Tom to the door. "Next time Elsa comes by to pick up India, just come in. Pick me up. Hang out with me until she leaves."

"But what about her not..."

"I don't care," Chris said forcefully. "If she comes to the lot, she's on our territory, and bound to run into both of us. Besides, what are we going to do? She asked today if we were out on the lot, I said no. There will be no PDAs in front of her and she'll survive it. May be good for her, even."

"Ugh." Tom let out a short laugh.

"Please, if you can't pick us up from counseling tomorrow, at least bring me, if your set time allows?" Chris said. "It's not about pulling you into anything, it's not about unloading on you or asking you to solve my problems. You're my partner now, Tom. I'm fucking scared, okay? I don't want a repeat of Saturday any more than you do. I'm asking you for help, because I need you to get through this." He ducked his head.

"You want me to bring you and pick you up?" Tom asked, trying to make sure.

"Yes."

"What about Elsa?"

"What about her?"

"About seeing us together?"

"Tom..." There was still the fear that if Elsa saw that he didn't adhere to one of their agreements, she would take India away again. "If you want to French kiss me into submission in front of her, I'm down with it," he exhaled.

"Unlikely." Tom actually giggled, which was probably a good sign. "I just don't want to be cut off from supporting you..."

"God, thank you." He ducked his head and kissed Tom, for the first time since they'd left the house in the morning.

"I don't want to feel like what we're doing is something bad, that we need to hide," Tom said into the kiss. His arms wrapped around Chris' shoulders. "I don't want to feel left out, like I'm a problem you need to discuss."

" _I'm_ a problem I need to discuss," Chris murmured into the kiss. "That's why I go there, really."

Then he didn't talk for a while, concentrating on just how sweet Tom tasted and how wonderfully right his body felt in his arms.

 

* * *

  
The ride home was mostly quiet. Andrew was driving, and they stopped once to pick up the food Chris had ordered earlier while he'd waited for Tom.

When they arrived home, and the flat's door finally closed behind Tom, he felt like the weight of the world was falling off his shoulders. He watched Chris put the food on top of the dresser and open his jacket, and then he just couldn't hold on any longer. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his lover, right under the jacket, in that body-warm space. Chris didn't say anything, he just held him close and kissed his temple and they stood there, swaying gently.

Their relationship was changing. They were different people now than they had been two weeks ago. They'd changed each other, and then other people's opinions had pressed back at them, and now necessity and dealing with former obligations changed them again. Chris had been his absolute rock for the first two weeks, had provided guidance and assurance, had been so absolutely sure that this had been the direction to take, that loving each other was worth anything that was thrown at them.

When it looked like Chris had started to wobble, nothing had scared him more, and he'd panicked.

"What's going on?" Chris whispered against his ear.

Tom just shook his head and squeezed harder.

Chris stroked over his hair. His stomach rumbled. "Sorry."

"Ugh." Tom laughed. "Sorry to keep you from eating."

"No, no, come here." Chris kissed him gently. "You're more important than food."

"I'm so tired of hiding," Tom said. "I'm so tired of having to wait the whole day to even hug you or kiss you. I'm so tired of how complicated it makes everything."

"Sh..."

"Please let's spend lunch together tomorrow," Tom said. "The day is going to be so long and we won't see much of each other in the evening."

"Okay." Chris kissed him again.

"You're half starved, half wanting to make love with me," Tom teased him gently.

"Those are about the top two priorities right now, yeah," Chris admitted, crinkling his nose as he smiled.

"No time for talking, then." Tom kissed his nose and disengaged from the hug. "Come on."

 

Not wanting to let eating interfere with them having body contact, they quickly set the table in the living room and ate on the sofa. After, changed into their pajamas for maximum comfort, Chris settled against the sofa's armrest and Tom cuddled up against him, and they soon found each other kissing, and Tom's hand going on explorations under Chris' shirt.

"Before we start anything," Chris murmured, as he slid down the armrest to lie flush against Tom, "Honey, I'm super tired, it's been a long day, lots of stunts."

"You want to go to sleep now?" Tom asked, alarmed.

"No, no, not at all," Chris said. His hand traced up Tom's thigh and briefly cupped his ass, then slipped under his shirt and made Tom break out in goosebumps from the contact. "I just know I will probably be no use to talk with after you're done with me."

"Done with you," Tom said with amused affection. "What about you being done with me?"

"That, too." Chris nuzzled against his neck and started kissing it gently. Tom felt a wave of warm arousal spread through him. "Just trying not to make the same mistake twice, my heart."

Tom closed his eyes, drinking in the very rarely used term of endearment. "What mistake?" he asked.

"Not listening to you," Chris said. "Putting my own needs first." He kissed his nose and looked at Tom expectantly. "Like I did last Friday."

"This is pretty much what I need right now," Tom said. "Just being here with you." He traced his brow. "Having your undivided attention."

"You definitely have it," Chris said. "I'm all yours."

"Is anything on your mind, though?" Tom asked.

"I just want to know that we're okay," Chris said quietly. "I can't stand making so many mistakes, all the time, being so at odds with you, all the time."

"We're okay, honey." Tom studied his lover's face.

"I can't live without you any more," Chris said. "I can't stand the thought that you could leave me."

"It's okay, Chris, I'm not going anywhere." He kissed his lover's brow.

"Please stay and talk with me when I'm doing something wrong, don't always walk away, it feels awful."

"I'll try. I just sometimes need to get out of a situation to clear my head. You know, when we've locked horns and nothing moves in any direction, I just need to walk away and get some perspective."

"What's your perspective on me, then?" Chris asked, sounding forlorn. "Am I worth all the trouble I'm putting you through?"

"Oh, honey." A wave of gentle love swept through Tom. "These are growing pains," he said. "I want to stay with you, baby. I don't want to leave. But it's not as easy as when we first fell in love, when it was just you and me. And I need to be able to tell you when I think you're going wrong. Just like you do with me, like you did in the locker room earlier."

"Do you think it will always be like this?" Chris asked.

"I hope not. I couldn't stand it if it were."

"I'm going to try harder," Chris said.

"I will, too." Tom pressed his forehead against Chris'. "You know what, it just occurred to me, I've been looking up to you for so long... you've always been my hero, Chris. I wanted to be just like you."

"And I wanted to be like you." Chris shifted in Tom's arms and kissed him, and Tom could feel that they were gradually moving into making love instead of talking.

He cupped Chris' face in his hand. "And now I'm suddenly face to face with the fact that you're just human, like the rest of us," he said.

"You're figuring that out now?" Chris laughed self-deprecatingly.

"I didn't expect it. I thought you had everything under control, all the time."

"Right. Just human, Tom. Making stupid mistakes and stumbling about trying not to look like an idiot since 1983."

"Doing a pretty good job of it, too." Tom kissed him. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you," Chris said. He leaned over Tom and his kisses became more insistent. "Let me make love with you, Tom."

"Hmmmm... sounds good." He reached up and pulled Chris' shirt off. Chris did the same for him. They both groaned with pleasure when they were finally skin-to-skin. Tom could feel Chris' arousal against his thigh, knowing that Chris would equally be able to feel him. They weren't in a rush, though. Chris on top of him, they slowly kissed and touched, cupped and felt, licked and nipped.

"Any preferences?" Chris murmured against his neck.

"Let's go to bed," Tom said. "Where we can move better."

Chris was on his feet instantly and stretched out a hand to help Tom up. Tom was a little distracted by the waving erection in front of his face that tented Chris' pajama bottoms impressively. He nuzzled against it and teased the tip with his lips.

"Honey, bed," Chris said, his voice full of gentle amusement.

"Couldn't resist." Tom smiled up at him.

"That's a pretty good thing. Come on, love."

"Hm, don't undress right away. Let me do it."

"Okay."

 

Once on the bed, Chris lay on his back, Tom crouched over him, covering every inch of his torso with slow, teasing kisses, spending quite a bit of time with his nipples, before drawing his tongue down his middle line and dipping it into his navel. "You're the best lover I ever had," Chris murmured, his hands in Tom's hair. "So lovely." He watched Tom fold the elastic on his pajamas down just enough to lay bare the tip of his cock. "Tom..." Tom pulled his foreskin down through his pants and licked tentatively at the head. "Tom..."

"May I please make love to you that way?" Tom asked.

"Oh, Tom."

"May I please receive you?"

"Honey..." Chris shook his head. "I want to feel you against me," he said. "You may, but only if you promise me you'll come between my legs after."

"Do you want me inside you?" Tom asked, crawling up the bed to hover over him. Their hard cocks touched. It was electrifying.

"I haven't cleaned up, and I don't want to get up and do it right now," he said, pulling Tom down for a kiss. "I just want to be with you."

"Okay," Tom said gently. "It's all right, Chris."

"It isn't," Chris said forlornly. "I've destroyed so much. I hurt you so much. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, sweetheart." Tom lowered his body to Chris'. "Right now, it's just you and me, okay? Just you and me, and right now, right here, we're okay."

"Tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Chris."

"Again." He arched against Tom, needing to feel him more.

"You're mine, Chris. And I'm yours, honey. It'll be okay."

"It was stupid of me," Chris whispered. "So stupid. I should have got two bracelets. I was stupid."

"You had your reasons."

"I was scared. I'm still scared to hurt you. I am hurting you."

"Chris. Hey."

"If I'm hurting you anyway... if I can't make it without... if this is how it's going to be..."

"Baby, no." Tom framed his face in his hands. "Look at me, Chris. We're still here. Both of us. We're still trying. We're still going at it. We haven't given up. Have we?"

"I can't give you up," Chris said. "I can't."

"That's good, honey." Tom smiled and rubbed his nose against Chris'. "Right answer, sweetheart." He kissed Chris, tenderly, softly. Chris felt like he was growing into the kiss, he needed it so badly.

"I think I know what you need, honey," Tom soothed. "Let me take care of you, sweetheart."

"Please." Chris was putty in Tom's hands, watching him undress him completely, watching Tom undress, his hard cock springing forward. Tom quickly chose a flavor of lube and squirted some in his hand, warming it up, then he leaned over Chris and started licking and kissing his cock, while he gently spread the lube between Chris' thighs.

At first, Chris watched him, his fingertips caressing Tom's scalp and shoulders. But then he closed his eyes and let Tom carry him away, soaking up the touch of his fingers and lips and tongue and then the inside of his mouth, hot and wet. He started moving gently into the caress and was very willing to follow Tom's guidance when he turned him to his side and made him curl around him while he kept up his loving ministrations.

Chris could touch Tom everywhere, letting his hands caress his lover's soft skin, trace the muscles on his back, his stomach, down his legs, between his legs, while Tom worked his magic between his. Tom was gentle, yet insistent, the angle helping him, and before long, Chris felt him take him in deep, his cock halfway down his throat.

It was exhilarating yet absolutely comfortable. It felt safe and loving, the way Tom caressed him while he received him. With gentle beats of his pelvis, Chris aided Tom's desire while he kissed his back, caressed his perfect ass cheeks, traced down his thighs.

He felt his arousal mounting; their breath speed up. He pushed his cock in deep, feeling Tom swallow around him.

"I want to fill you," he whispered.

Tom hummed in agreement, making his cock feel fantastic. This was always so easy for them, to find a rhythm that worked for them both, and what pleased one usually pleased the other.

"Do you want that?" Chris murmured. "Do you want to receive me?"

Tom voiced his agreement, his arms closing around Chris' hips as he drew him in even deeper. In a faraway corner of his mind, Chris wondered whether getting his pubes up his nose would eventually make Tom sneeze, and what would happen then. But then Tom let him slip out so he could breathe, and sucked at him fervently like a babe for its mother's milk, concentrated and with absolute determination, and all conscious thought fled his brain.

"Let me," he murmured. "Let me... deep... Tom..." Tom opened up for him again and he pushed forward, taking him decisively, very impatient suddenly when he had to pause every three strokes to let Tom breathe. He kept at it with mounting urgency and then finally, he pushed forward one last time and came down his lover's throat. "Drink me," he moaned, feeling Tom swallowing him eagerly. "Drink me, Tom." He pressed in again and again, to give Tom all he had, until his lover pushed at him to let him go, panting heavily to catch his breath.

"Angel," Chris said gently, spent. "What you do to me." He placed a loving kiss on Tom's fine backside, caressing him gently as he rested against him.

Tom laughed, merely an amused rumble in his chest, his head pillowed against Chris' hip. His hand was still stroking between Chris' legs, making him feel fantastic in the afterglow, and Tom placed tiny, gentle kisses on the sensitive skin around his cock.

"Ready to come up?" Chris asked after a while, wanting to feel Tom against him.

Tom shook his head. "Let me..." he croaked, and tried to clear his throat.

"Rinse?" Chris asked, amused.

"I've got sperm and saliva all over me," Tom murmured, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Look at me, honey."

Tom shook his head.

"Look at me." Chris uncurled and turned Tom's face towards him, and then he smiled. "Look at you, beautiful," he said gently, running a hand through Tom's hair. "Let me burn that picture into my brain." His fingers traced Tom's eyebrows and cheekbones, drinking in his completely fucked out expression, his lips and chin glistening with moisture. Chris had to admit that he had no desire to kiss him like that, but it was a sight he would never forget. He finally smiled. "Okay, go wash up, love."

Tom looked at him thankfully and took off towards the bathroom.

Chris leaned back and stretched, being in the comfortable position of needing no cleaning up at all. He heard Tom brush his teeth in the bathroom – of course he would brush his teeth – and performed a little internal check to see how he was doing. He smiled when Tom reappeared in the bedroom and patted his side of the bed to invite him in.

Tom smelled nice. Chris enveloped him in his arms, threw the duvet over them and kissed him softly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I love you," Tom said earnestly.

"But?"

"No but. Just slowly realizing what it will mean in the long run," Tom said, stroking his hand along his jaw. "Not as easy as I thought in the first place."

Chris caught his hand and kissed his palm. He was much calmer now than he had been when they had first got into bed. "I want us to do this," he said. "I want to do this with you."

"You've always been the one to pull us forward," Tom said. "Made me feel good about being with you and calmed my fears."

"I want to keep doing that," Chris said.

"I know, honey." Tom leaned over him and kissed him. "But I think I get that you're really confused about a lot of things at the moment."

"What does that mean?" Chris said.

"That I can't keep leaving the responsibility for how our relationship is going in your hands only, honey. Hm?" Tom kissed him again, clearly eager to escalate the sexual tension.

"It's not going to be as easy as me coming to you when I'm sad, and you making it all better, will it?" Chris murmured, burying his nose against Tom's neck. It was by far one of his favorite parts of Tom, smooth, soft, inherently lickable.

"Probably not," Tom breathed. He shifted to lie on top of Chris, his cock easily slipping between his legs. The desire in his eyes made Chris shiver and break out in goosebumps. "You okay?" Tom rumbled as he pushed in.

"God, yes." Chris moved into him, closing his eyes with pleasure. "I need this."

"It'll always be here when you're ready to come to me," Tom murmured, his voice going a little wobbly as he moved between Chris' legs. "Oh my god, I had no idea how much I needed this."

"Go for it," Chris encouraged him, his hands squeezing Tom's ass.

"It'll be over soon," Tom panted. "Swallowing you like that makes me so hot..." He groaned. "Chris..."

Chris laughed, absolutely delighted. "Good to know I'm still doing it for you."

Tom swatted him, then laughed, his thrusts speeding up. "Chris..."

"Don't hold back. Don't hold back." Chris arched into Tom's body, causing him to groan appreciatively. Tom leaned forward and licked over his nipple, then brushed his nose against the underside of his pectoral muscle and lightly bit into it. Arousal shot through Chris' body and he felt himself go hard again after all. "Look what you do to me."

"I want to come between your legs," Tom moaned. "I want you to drip with my come."

"Hmmmmm...." Chris could hardly think of something more appealing right now. "Yesss..."

The room was filled with their moaning and grunting, with the sound of their bodies meeting in ecstasy, and Tom was curling his hands around Chris' shoulders and thrust with all he had. He was sweaty and smelled like sex, and the expression on his face nearly sent Chris over the edge.

It really didn't take too long; Tom having apparently carried his earlier arousal over to this coupling. His face torn with lust, he came between Chris' legs in warm spurts, coating his skin with his seed. When it seemed like he was done, Chris rolled him on his back and cleaned his cock with his tongue until Tom begged for mercy.

Chris smiled and rested his head on Tom's stomach, watching his boyfriend's face adoringly.

"So gay," Tom moaned, then laughed. His hand was stroking lazily through Chris' hair.

"We're getting better at that, aren't we?" Chris said, tracing Tom's beautiful mauve-colored lips with his forefinger. "I fucking love you so much." He moved up and kissed him.

"Love you, too," Tom murmured. "Nap, and then do it again?"

"Up for it if you are," Chris agreed.

"Do you need to clean up?" Tom asked, his tongue already heavy with sleep.

"Not for a while," Chris said. He liked having Tom on him a little longer. He curled up to his lover and cuddled into his embrace, holding on to him, glad when Tom squeezed him closer. "Love you."

"We'll be fine, honey," Tom murmured into his hair, quite obviously ready to fall asleep.

Chris really hoped Tom was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, you lovely people! I've been sitting on this (super long) chapter for a few days, but travelling to London to see Richard II and Coriolanus made finishing it difficult. I'm now on my way back, so I hope updates will resume at a more regular pace from now on. Hope you are all well!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying hard to be a better partner, Tom gets a startling insight into Chris' world.

"Sorry I couldn't bring you, love."

"I got it," Chris smiled into the phone.

"Are you already at the office?" Tom asked.

"Uh-huh." Chris paced along the row of windows. "Dusk settling over London. Always a pretty sight."

"Unless it's raining."

Chris smiled. "I love you."

"Love you, too." It was quiet for a moment on the other side of the line. Tom was still on the set, and in his trailer in full costume. They had just wrapped, he had told Chris, and he'd foregone a quick change to call him, instead. "Are you nervous?"

"Yeah." Chris fiddled with his house keys, just to have something to do.

"Why?" He knew Tom was just keeping him talking to distract him, and that was fine with him.

"Because..." He sat down by the window and kept watching the sun go down over London, coloring the sky a brilliant red and yellow. "Because you never know what will come up, and it may take you by surprise," he said. "But I'm not nervous about us."

He could hear Tom smile. "That's good, then."

"Yeah." Chris remembered the previous night. He'd been afraid they would just nod off and sleep until the next morning, but they had actually woke up and made love again, drowsy with sleep, wrapped tightly around each other. And another time this morning, before they got up. He'd been walking around with a fairly silly, lovesick smile for most of the day, he knew. He couldn't care less what people thought when they looked at him, or what they were saying behind his back. He indulged in filling himself up with Tom, because he knew now that it was a privilege to be able to do so, not a matter of course. "Where are you going tonight?" he asked.

"Little Turkish place, actually," Tom said. "Why?"

"I was thinking about coming by after counseling," Chris confided.

"Really?" Tom sounded delighted. "And bring India?"

"I'm thinking about it."

There was a small pause on the phone. "I'd love that," Tom finally said.

"You would?" Chris beamed.

"Yes. Please come."

"I hope that's what you're going to say later tonight, when we're in bed," Chris insinuated.

"Naughty, naughty," Tom said, clearly amused. "We'll see what we can do about that."

"Hm, yes, please do." Chris sighed happily and leaned back in his seat. The big clock on the other side of the waiting room turned to 4:20 pm.

"You know that if we keep that up, people will sooner or later get that we're together, right?" Tom asked.

"Keep what up?"

"Show up everywhere together, care for India together..."

"Does it bother you?"

"No." It came out immediately. "Wow."

Chris smiled. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Never thought I'd say that, Chris. Maybe I should get me some rainbow colored clothes after all."

"Disco spandex," Chris suggested. "And glitter."

"Looking fabulous in a feather boa and a skin tight tank top."

"You would."

Tom laughed. "I do it if you do it."

"I'll ride that London pride float in nothing but golden body paint and a pair of cupid's wings," Chris teased.

"You're riding that exactly to the front door and then I'll ride you," Tom threatened playfully.

"Uh huh. Interesting." Chris waggled his eyebrows. "Makes me think that we should actually try that one of these days."

"In the privacy of our home," Tom warned.

"Yes, love." Chris said obediently, but he smiled. The office door opened, and Elsa came in. He waved at her. She casually waved back. "Tom, Elsa just came in."

"You want to hang up?" 

"No, just telling you that she came in, so you know."

"Do you want to hand her over?" Tom asked. "We haven't got a hold of each other so far about India."

"I can ask," Chris said. "See you later? Text me the directions to the Turkish place."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too." Chris smiled. He took the phone away from his ear. "Hi Elsa," he called over to her. "Tom's just on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

She walked towards him, taking her gloves and shawl off. "Okay," she said, picking the phone from his hand. It felt a little odd, like she was taking his lifeline away from him. He blinked up at her, her small hands very close to his face.

"Tom?" She shook out her gloves and put them in her pocket, then opened her jacket. She looked quite good in a white winter jacket with its gray fake fur around the hood, and a pair of tight light blue jeans and white winter boots. "Yes, that sounds good," she said. "Thursday should be fine. What time do you want to come by?" She listened while fluffing her hair with her right hand. "Then why don't you come around eleven, would that be okay? That's just when she gets up for her nap. Can you take her while we're in counseling? Becky can't make it on Thursday." She listened, then laughed. "Tom, I'm sure she'll be fine."

Chris shook his head and reached for the phone.

Elsa frowned at him and kept speaking into the mouthpiece. "It's just one and a half hours, I'm not sure what the problem..."

Chris just took the phone out of her hands. "Tom?" he said.

"Yeah?" Tom sounded very small suddenly.

"It's okay," Chris said. "If you don't feel confident, you don't have to, okay? We'll take it slow."

"Okay."

Crap. He didn't want their progress to have been for nothing. "Really. Let me talk to Elsa and find another way. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I'll try."

Chris gave Elsa a short look and got up to cross the waiting room, and walked out the door into the hallway. "Tom?" he asked.

"I'm still here."

"Good. Honey... honestly, please don't worry about a thing."

"Why are you back on the phone?" Tom wanted to know, laughing through his worry.

"Cause I don't want the call to end this way," Chris said. "Like the moment Elsa walks in, things are changing again between us. I promised you, you don't have to do anything with India that you're not comfortable with, and I'm sticking with that."

"Okay." Tom exhaled. "I appreciate that."

"I'm afraid I'll have to go now, though," Chris said. "Almost time to go in."

"I'll text you the directions," Tom said. "Good luck."

"I love you."

He heard Tom's smile. "Love you more."

"Think of me the next 90 minutes?" Chris asked worryingly.

"I promise, my heart."

Chris took a sharp intake of breath, the endearment hitting him in an unexpected place.

"Chris?"

"Yeah."

"You suddenly went quiet," Tom said.

"Just when you call me that..." Chris said.

"Yeah. I know. It does it to me, too." Tom laughed softly. "Hang up, honey. You're going to be late."

"You hang up first," Chris said, hoping that Tom wouldn't.

"I love you," Tom said gently. "Be right here when you come back."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Tom went quiet for a moment. "Chris, hang up," he said, half-laughing, half desperate. "Or Elsa will come and drag you in by the hair."

"Worth it," Chris said. "Talk to you later, Tom."

"Yes," Tom said in the same tone. "Bye."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chris might have said it was okay to turn up at the counseling office, but Tom was still nervous. He'd sent Chris a text message that he was waiting outside in the car ten minutes to six, but now he'd been waiting for twenty, and he was getting very twitchy, drumming the steering wheel with his fingers and checking and re-checking the rear view mirror for any sign of Chris and India.

It wasn't that he really wanted to get into Elsa's territory. He understood that this was the only time she had left with Chris, and that it was important. That wasn't the question. But knowing he wasn't _allowed_ rubbed him the wrong way. He was a considerate person to start with and did not tread into other people's spaces if they did not welcome him in. To be told he had no right to be where Chris was, especially if Chris needed him and basically begged him to be there, though...

So he'd compromised. Sent Chris a text and took his own car to the counseling office. Didn't go inside unbidden, but waited for Chris to come out.

His heart threatened to beat out his chest when he finally saw Chris step out of the building. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and was accompanied by Elsa and another woman, whom he supposed was Becky. Elsa was carrying India.

They stopped by the curb and he saw Chris look up and down the street, maybe for him. Tom closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Had Chris even got his text? Was he waiting for a cab to take? He could just signal him by turning the light on and off, but how idiotic was that?

"You should have thought about that before," he chided himself and thumped his forehead against the steering wheel. He didn't want to make it worse, he just wanted to... suddenly, he had a very good idea of how Chris must feel most of the time. Like tiptoeing through a mine field and no matter how careful and considerate you were, something always blew off.

Tom pushed the door open and got out. It was chillingly cold and he gasped for air, but then just waved, hoping that Chris would see him, and he wouldn't have to call to get his attention.

Luckily, Chris waved back. Then the whole group set in motion towards his car.

That was not what Tom had expected. He quickly fished his cap out of the car and put it on, then wrapped his arms around himself, shivering with cold. His heart hammered in his chest as he suddenly remembered every manners lesson ever drummed into him in Eton. If in doubt, be polite. Meet the world with courtesy and hope it would meet you with the same.

So he put on a smile and pretended that this was something that happened all the time, and as they approached, he waved. "Hello everybody," he said. "I'm not sure I have enough room in the car for everyone." He did, but god did he not want to drive Elsa and Becky home.

"No sweat, I came with my own car," Becky said as she jingled her keys. She reached him first and held out a hand. "Rebecca Richardson, how do you do?"

Tom shook it. "Tom Hiddleston," he said. "Nice to meet you."

She mustered him carefully, then gave way for Elsa.

"Hi Tom," she said. "Sorry about the invasion, I just wanted to see India off."

"No problem," he lied. "I put her car seat in the back. Hi India!" He waved at the baby, who quickly hid her face against her mother's shoulder. Great. This was going great.

"Hey Tom. Thanks for picking us up." Chris gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. It made Tom smile, just being anywhere near Chris was making him happy. "Sorry about that," Chris murmured into his ear. "It wasn't my idea."

Tom just nodded.

Elsa was buckling her daughter into the car seat, and Becky tried her hand at conversation as they waited for her to finish.

"So what are you guys up to tonight?" she asked with forced cheerfulness. Then halted. "Or should I not ask?"

"One of our actresses has wrapped today," Tom supplied quickly. "She's asked us to a farewell dinner. We're heading there first."

"Who is it?" Elsa asked from the car.

"Rene," Chris answered. "We're not going to stay long, I know India needs to go to bed."

Elsa reappeared. "As long as she's ready to leave tomorrow at three..."

"I'll make sure," Chris said.

"What are you up to tonight?" Tom forced himself to ask.

"Learning lines," Elsa shrugged. "I have an audition tomorrow so I'm going to use the quiet to do that."

"Break a leg," Tom said. It felt suddenly completely unreal that he would drive away with Elsa's husband, that Elsa wasn't coming along to say goodbye to Rene, that he honestly thought that showing up at that cast dinner with Chris and India wouldn't raise some brows.

"About Thursday," Elsa said, kicking her heel against the pavement in a gesture of unease. "I'm sorry, Tom, I'm not going to make it."

"Um... okay." Tom was a little confused and looked at Chris for an explanation. Chris just shook his head, so Tom looked back at her. "Um... I'm really sorry to hear that," he said. "I... I think I could really use some pointers."

"I'm not up for it," she said, crossing her arms in front of herself. "Sorry, Tom, this..." She indicated Tom and Chris who stood fairly close, and opposite her and Becky, "Just too soon." He voice caught in her throat.

"Oh."

"Yeah." She gave him a lopsided smile, obviously close to tears that she did not want to show.

"I'm... I'm sorry." Suddenly it seemed so stupid that he had felt he needed to stake some kind of claim, that he had felt he needed to be here. She'd already lost everything. What the hell was he doing here? "If there is something I can do...?"

"You've got Chris," Elsa said. "I think that'll be enough."

"Um... yeah. Of course." He exchanged a quick look with his boyfriend. "Is this the last time I'm going to see you then, before you leave for Romania?"

"Oh, no sentimentality," she waved him off. "I'm pretty sure you're glad to see my back."

He didn't know what to say to that.

"Well." She shivered. "I'm going to be off." She looked at Chris. "We probably won't see each other tomorrow...?"

Chris shook his head. "I'll likely be filming when you pick her up."

"Alright. Until Thursday then." She hesitated, but he stepped forward and hugged her briefly.

"I promise I'll call if anything's wrong," he said, then let her go.

"Okay." She sniffed, and gave both of them a look. "This is so weird," she said.

"I know," Tom replied.

"You two look like you always did," Elsa said frankly. "There's no difference."

"Elsa, come on, let's go home," Becky tried to intervene.

"No, wait. I wanted to _see_ ," Elsa said. She stepped closer and mustered both of them. Tom felt really uncomfortable, and unconsciously took a step towards Chris. "You've _told_ me, both of you," she said. "But this isn't right, that you're driving home with Tom, and not with me."

"Elsa..." Becky's efforts became more pronounced.

Elsa pushed past her and turned away, trying to collect herself.

Tom was petrified. He looked at Chris, who looked back at him, inclining his head towards Elsa. Tom nodded. Chris stepped over to his wife and touched her shoulder. "Elsa..."

"Ugh!" she made.

"I warned you," Chris said compassionately.

"I just wanted to know," she said.

"Fine, now you know," he said gently. "This is how it's going to be."

Tom saw her reflexively wrapping her arms around Chris and he couldn't even feel jealous.

"Aw, shit," Becky said.

"This is awful," Tom shivered, feeling completely horrible. He was fully expecting Becky to go into a rant, but she didn't.

"That's Elsa for you," she said in a low voice, then threw him a quick look. "I shouldn't even be talking to you."

Tom shrugged. "The whole situation is a mess," he said. "I shouldn't have come out here in the first place." He sighed. "Chris, I hate to be a nag, but we need to leave." He saw no point in dragging this out.

Elsa extracted herself from Chris' arms, wiping at her eyes angrily. "I'm such a fool."

"I'm sorry I keep hurting you," he said.

"I'm sorry I keep running into open knives," she said forcefully. She lifted her chin at Tom. "You can have him."

"Aw, Elsa, no." Tom found himself annoyed. "Not like that"

"I think I'm done here," Elsa sniffed, nodding at Becky. She turned once more towards the car, put on a cheerful smile and waved at India. "Bye bye cariño, have fun with Daddy!" Then she stalked off without turning back. Becky hurried after her.

India started to cry when she saw her mother walk away.

"This is a nightmare," Tom said stupidly. "Chris, best get in the back with India. We need to get away from here."

"I want to kill her right now," Chris murmured.

"I think that was her point," Tom said, wrapping an arm around Chris' shoulders.

Chris hugged him tightly for a moment, a manly hug, with an honest back-thump, but basically clinging to him for support.

"Get in the back, love," Tom said gently, squeezing his arms around him. "Your baby needs you."

"Ugh." Chris wiped at his eyes. "Okay." He gave Tom a thankful look. "Thanks for coming out here to pick us up."

Tom sighed, really not sure it had been such a splendid idea.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They drove quietly for a while, with India babbling at her father in the back seat. He "answered" as best he could, but when she settled down with a bottle of fennel tea, her little hand wrapped tightly around Chris' finger, the silence felt oppressive to Tom.

"I'm sorry I put my foot in it," he said.

"Not your fault," Chris said. "I'm glad you came. It was a nice surprise to get your text."

Tom saw him smile at him in the rear view mirror. "How can you be so calm about this?" Tom asked. "That was a horrible scene."

"That's basically what's been going on since I told her that I'm staying with you," Chris said.

"Even in counseling?" Tom asked.

"No, counseling is a little different because someone else is there," Chris said. "Dr. Casey is quite good in channeling this kind of thing in a different direction."

"I'm so sorry," Tom said again.

"About what?" Chris asked.

"That this is what you're going through," Tom said quietly. He didn't want to add a "for us", or "for me". It would only make Chris feel bad about him, as well, and he didn't want that.

"The counseling helps," Chris said.

"It's been worse?" Tom asked, aghast.

"No, more like..." Chris sighed. "You get to spill all your frustration at some supervised time," he supplied. "Not all over the place. Or at least you should. Still working on that."

"Chris, should I just leave you to it the next time?" Tom looked at him in the mirror.

"No, please come again," Chris said. Tom felt his hand on his shoulder, his thumb caressing the skin of his neck. He covered it with his own.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The restaurant was rather small, and Rene had booked it completely for the night. They stopped on the way to get her a truly ginormous bouquet, and arrived together, not bothering to pretend Tom had not picked father and daughter up.

There was laughter and boisterous greetings, but there were also looks when Chris said he had India for the night. Not everyone had caught on that he and Elsa had split up, but from now on, it would be common knowledge on the set, they were sure.

India was in high spirits from all the attention and a good time was had by all until about eight thirty, when her eyelids grew heavy and her temper short.

"Terribly sorry," Chris said. "As you can see, my date for the night needs a nap. Rene..." He went over to her and said goodbye with heartfelt hugs and kisses.

Tom also got up. "Sorry, I'm the chauffeur," he said. "Long day tomorrow. I see you all on the set." He also made his goodbyes to Rene, promising to stay in touch.

It was bitterly cold when they stepped outside, and Chris hurried the baby into the car, where Tom immediately turned on the heating. India was tired and squirmed in her seat, trying to keep Chris from closing the buckles.

"Will she fall asleep while we drive?" Tom asked.

"I hope not. She still needs her bottle, and if she falls asleep now, she's going to be dancing at 12, thinking this was just a nap," Chris said.

"Should I put on some music?" Tom asked.

"Not a bad idea."

"70s disco coming right up," Tom announced.

"Only because it's a special circumstance," Chris warned.

"Got it." Tom grinned. Chris didn't share that particular musical preference.

A twenty minute drive later, they arrived at home and hurried the baby inside. India was in splendid spirits after all the singing and dancing and Tom could hear her squeal all the way to the kitchen when Chris took her upstairs to change her. When he came down with India in adorable duck-printed footie pajamas, Tom had already fixed the bottle for her and changed into his pajamas.

"Slumber party?" Chris asked. "You two are a matching pair."

"Should I hold her while you change?" Tom asked. "Bottle is still too hot."

"Yeah." Chris' eyes lit up, appreciating Tom's offer for what it was. "You come watch me change?"

"If you insist..." Tom accepted the baby and held her so she could see Chris.

They traveled to the bedroom, where he sat down with India on the bed while Chris stripped quickly. India leaned back against his torso comfortably and commented on everything Chris did, pointing at him.

"Have you and Elsa always been naked around her?" Tom asked.

"Eh... yeah. Not all the time, mind you." Chris winked at him. "I take it your parents..."

"God forbid, no," Tom said, rubbing India's tummy. She covered his hand with her own. A little spike of happiness went through Tom at the casual familiarity. The fear of falling in love with her reappeared suddenly, but he pushed it aside. "How was counseling today?" he asked.

"Ugh." Chris sighed. He put his clothes into the hamper and strutted over to the dresser to get his pajamas. "What can I say."

"You don't have to," Tom said. "Just thought you might like to talk."

Chris joined them on the bed, sitting down to put on his bottoms. "It's not... I always try to keep things a little apart," he said. "It feels wrong to tell you about the things Elsa struggles with, or tell her about the things that you struggle with."

"Yeah."

"I can tell you that she wasn't very happy about the way I made her talk to you twice about India," Chris said. "That's what she said."

"Oh." Tom sighed. "She sounded okay about it on the phone."

"I guess that's one of the reasons she insisted on coming out with me to put India in the car," Chris said. "She wanted to see... well, you know."

"Yeah." Tom found himself leaning against a now pajama-clad Chris, and Chris' arm around his shoulders. "She tried, then."

"Yeah." Chris placed a kiss against his temple. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry she's in so much pain," Tom said. "Just sorry." He fell quiet.

"I don't know about you," Chris murmured, "but cuddling up on the sofa with my two favorite people in the world right now sounds like a really good idea."

"Should I get a book for India?" Tom asked.

"Sure." But he didn't let him go right away, leaning over for a kiss. "I love you, Tom," he said earnestly.

"I love you, too."

"With all the mess attached?"

"You love me with my mess attached," Tom shrugged. "Occurs to me we're about even."

They kissed again, a little longer this time. It felt so good.

"I'm taking India, go get that book," Chris finally smiled against his lips. "Or we need to reheat the bottle."

"The scandal," Tom smiled. "I'll be right back."

  
  


* * *

Even after India had fallen asleep, the three of them sat cuddled together on the sofa for a while, until Chris decided she really had to go to bed, and brought her upstairs.

Tom put the bottle away and got everything ready for the next morning in the kitchen. He was pleasantly surprised by Chris wrapping around him from behind when he came back. The thin fabric of their pajamas gave him a nice live performance of Chris' arousal; that just thinking about him on the way down had already had him half-hard, and no thirty seconds pressed against his ass, he was fully erect and ready, his hands slipping under Tom's shirt, his lips against Tom's neck.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Tom asked, quietly amused.

"Should I not?" Chris asked, easing up on his ministrations.

"You most certainly should," Tom murmured. "Can you go get the lube?"

Chris placed a kiss behind his ear. "What's going on in your little wicked mind?" he rumbled pleasantly into his ear.

"Don't ruin it by asking too many questions," Tom smiled, teasingly pulling Chris' lower lip through his teeth.

Chris hissed and patted Tom's side appreciatively. "Don't go anywhere."

"Not likely." He was already hard, himself, and found himself pushing his erection against the counter top for relief while he filled up the coffee maker and set the timer for oh-too-early. He knew what he wanted Chris to do, but expressing it in words would probably make him blush and stutter.

"Here?" Chris asked when he was back, immediately picking up where they had left off. "In the kitchen?" His cool hand stroked over Tom's chest, his thumb flicking over his nipple.

"We probably shouldn't," Tom agreed, pressing back against Chris' erection.

"Fuck," Chris swore, pulling at Tom's earlobe with his teeth. "Tom." He covered Tom's hands with his own and slid up against him.

"Like that," Tom encouraged him. "Like that, Chris."

"This?" Chris pressed his erection against Tom's crack.

"Yeah." Tom hissed, arching his back. "Just without pajamas, and with lube." He'd found a way to say it without tripping over his tongue.

Chris just groaned. He didn't lose any time, pulling Tom's bottoms down, and then his own. "The lube?" he rasped.

Tom handed it back to him, feeling wanton and incredibly aroused. He arched his back and presented his ass to Chris, finding him placing bristly bearded kisses on it as he kneeled behind him and spread his cheeks. Of course he was self-conscious about it, was he clean, did he smell... and then Chris spurted some cold lube along his crack while nibbling at his skin. He thought he'd die from arousal. "Hurry," he urged, drawing some silent laughter from Chris.

He heard fabric swish behind him, and then Chris swiftly pulled off his top, as well. "Not going to be cool for long," he murmured, spreading Tom's cheeks and fitting himself between them. "I'm going to make you sweat."

"Oh, I'm sure." Tom adjusted his stand so he could feel Chris' full length. It surprised him how good it felt, Chris' hard, hot cock in that place, countering the cool lube in which he started to move. He gasped and pressed back against him, wanting more friction.

"Good?" Chris murmured into his ear, voice tight with arousal.

"Pretty good, yeah." Tom gasped.

He saw Chris spurting some lube into his right hand, and before he could ask what for, that hand was wrapped around his own cock.

"Oh my god," he moaned. "Be gentle or I'm going to come right there."

"Maybe that's what I want," Chris panted. His hand adjusted Tom's hip, and he started a clean, long thrust along his crack. "Oh my god that feels fantastic." He kissed a line along Tom's shoulder, and then gently bit into it.

"Yeah." Tom reached around to touch Chris' ass, feeling it bulging under his hand. "I really need this."

"Me sliding in your crack," Chris murmured, the words sending a spike of arousal through Tom.

"Yes." He pressed back against Chris, willing him to take him harder. "If I can't have you inside, I figured I'd try this," he gasped. "Chris."

Chris moaned, his hand against Tom's pelvis front the counterweight to his driving cock against his back. "You have such a nice ass," he announced appreciatively. "So nice and firm and round and..." He groaned with the next thrust. "Tom, I'm not going to last long."

"A little longer," Tom begged. "Please a little longer."

Chris slowed down, a long, deep moan escaping his chest. "This is so good," he breathed. "So good, Tom."

Tom couldn't argue with that at all. They were stark naked in his kitchen, he was braced against the counter, with a spectacularly sexy man sliding his glorious hot, hard cock in his crack, his hand wrapped around his erection, the other hand playing with his nipple, while his tongue and lips sucked at his neck. "This is heaven," he moaned. "I love you so much, Chris."

"And I love you," Chris murmured. He made him turn his head so he could kiss him, and then thrust hard, and hard again. "I want to drink the breath I'm fucking out of you," he moaned.

"Yes." Tom had no objections. "Take everything you want."

"Oh god." Chris took him hard, his cock creating sensations that had Tom gasp and sob, and his mouth was still covering Toms, making true on his poetic prediction. Tom had to take Chris' hand away from his erection or he would come. He concentrated on balancing Chris' thrusts, shortly feeling both of Chris' hands on his hips to keep him in place. "Give me your moan when you come," Chris begged. "Breathe right into me."

"Chris..."

"Like that." Chris' thrusts nearly shook Tom off his feet, but he took them gladly, very satisfied that Chris was not holding back, that he was letting him feel his whole power. "I'm close, Tom. So close."

"Me, too," Tom breathed.

"Good. Hold on to that counter top," Chris warned. "I need to feel your cock jump in my hand when you come."

"Chriiiis..." Chris' hand wrapped around his cock and he just let himself float away, so expertly taken, so knowledgeably taken apart. "Oh god Chris, fuck me hard, dammit." Within a few strokes, it was over, he cried out into Chris' mouth, spurted his seed over his hand, whimpered out his love when Chris wouldn't let him go until he came, himself, coating his back with his come.

They stood, panting, their sweaty foreheads pressed against each other. Then Chris lead Tom into the shower, where they kissed and touched deeply, and then Chris pushed him against the shower wall, making Tom sit on his hips, and took him again, his hand working both their cocks until they came in painful spurts.

"Fuck," Tom groaned against Chris' neck. "I needed that so badly. I needed you so badly. I need you, Chris. I need you." He slung his arms around Chris' neck and they kissed, languidly, deeply, the water still pouring over them. "Please stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere," Chris promised, holding him gently against his own body. They swayed under the rainwater shower, encased in their own world, alone with each other.

Tom stole gentle kisses, nibbling at Chris' lips, and found himself go hard again.

"You're insatiable," Chris mocked gently. "I think I'm done for today. You wear me out once more."

Tom didn't speak, but lead his cock between Chris' legs. "One more."

"You can have me," Chris breathed against his lips. "Come have me one more time." He wasn't getting hard again, but he touched Tom's back and ass, aiding his efforts, holding him against his body.

Tom felt safe and cared for, supported in his unquenched lust for his lover. He got lost in the moment, in Chris' arms around him, his truly magnificent body at his disposal, thrusting his cock between his powerful legs.

He came eventually, whimpering, because coming started to hurt as his seed was catapulted out of him.

"Good now?" Chris asked, kissing that special place under his ear.

"Yeah." He was suddenly bone tired, but so at peace against Chris' body, in his arms. "Starting to."

They both chuckled tiredly, and Chris held him, his fingertips stroking gently over his back as he slowly caught his breath.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Tom try to make the most of their time together.

When they stepped out of the shower, Chris halted and strained to listen. He furrowed his brow. "Sorry, Tom, I think India's crying. Be right back."

“You can hear that from here?” Tom marveled. They’d left the baby phone in the bedroom.

“Practice makes perfect.” Chris winked at him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll hurry.”

Tom gave him a smile. "No worries. Go take care of her."

Chris quickly wrapped into his bath robe, stepped into his slippers and took off upstairs, giving Tom ample time to dry himself and lotion up. He was walking back into the kitchen buck naked to retrieve his pajamas when Chris came back down, his long hair still dripping.

"There's a sight for sore eyes," he said.

Tom grinned at him over his shoulder. "Dry off and bring the lotion?" Tom asked. "Come to think of it, maybe a big towel?"

"You're full of ideas tonight." Chris descended the stairs and pulled him closer, sniffing appreciatively at his hair. "Hmmm, _L'au de Tom_."

Tom wrapped his arms around him and rested his head against his shoulder for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Chris murmured in his ear.

"Yeah. Just so glad I've got you," Tom said.

Chris didn't say anything to that, just swayed them gently, letting his fingers travel down Tom's back.

Tom shivered. "I need to get some clothes on," he said apologetically. "Kinda cold."

"Okay." Chris kissed him softly. "I'll hurry."

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere." Tom rubbed noses with him and let him go.

He could hear Chris' hairdryer when he went back to the living room with a bottle of red wine, two glasses, and a few sweets. Moreover, he could hear India crying again.

Torn between telling Chris – who could most likely not hear her because of the noise – and taking care of it, himself, he gave himself a push and ascended the stairs.

The nightlight was giving the nursery a soft, unobtrusive light, bright enough to find his way to the crib.

India was fussing in her sleeping bag, not quite awake, but mewling. He gave her the dummy back that she had lost and stroked her cheek with his finger. She sucked for a moment and quieted down, then spit the dummy out and started crying again.

"Okay, honey, what's wrong?" Tom unzipped the sleeping bag and carefully lifted her our. He had a sniff at her nappied bottom. "Ah," he said. "That explains it. Let's take care of that. I wouldn't sleep well in that, either."

He took her over to the changing table, taking care to cover the overhead light with a spit-up cloth before turning it on, so it would not unduly rouse her. Then he carefully extracted her from her pajama, which was already soiled.

"Oh, a bad one, you poor little girl." Maybe some of the tidbits she had tried at the Turkish restaurant weren't agreeing with her stomach after all. He could relate to that. "Maybe Daddy can fix you a bottle with chamomile tea," he thought out loud, knowing that the baby monitor was still turned on downstairs. "Would that be nice for your tummy? Hm?"

It took about five seconds for Chris to call up the stairs: "Yes, Daddy can!"

Tom smiled. "Daddy's the best, isn't he?" he said, then held his breath as he peeled the little girl out of her spectacularly poopy nappy. "Nasty," he wheezed, quickly wrapping it up and disposing it in the nappy bin. He was still holding India aloft by her feet and managed to open the wet wipes disposal with one hand, quickly cleaning any remnants from the baby's bottom. A second wipe took care of the folds.

India had quieted down and watched him attentively.

"Was that okay?" Tom asked, placing a soft kiss on her belly. She kicked and flailed her arms. "I take that as a yes." He took a fresh nappy from the overhead shelf and opened it, checking that the adhesive straps were on the right side before placing it under the baby and wrapping it around her. He wasn't too sure how tight to wrap the nappy, but she did him the favor of blowing up her belly, and he made sure it was tight but comfortable then. That should be good for when she just slept in it.

"Ah, onesie time," Tom worried. "Let's see how we do with that." He rummaged through the drawer below and found one with little snap buttons on the neck. Once the onesie was over her head, he felt more comfortable. "We've done worse," he commented, capturing one of India's flailing arms and leading it through one arm of the onesie, then did the same on the other sideq. "Now it should be a piece of cake."

The tension started to leave his body as he sat her up to pull the onesie down, and then laid her down again to close it over her nappy. He chose a different footie pajama and took India over to the rocking chair, sitting her on his leg to dress her.

"Those toes are truly adorable," he commented, touching each one with his forefinger before pulling the pajama over them. "You are a very cute little girl, aren't you?"

The door opened and Chris tiptoed in. "Hey you two," he said softly. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yeah." Tom smiled at Chris, feeling happiness flooding his whole body at his sight, and the fact that he was doing so well with Chris' baby. "I think we are."

"Do you want to finish that?" Chris asked.

"Yes, but can you stay?"

"Sure." Chris folded up in front of the crib.

"Or do you want to hold her?" Tom suddenly remembered that Chris had had so little time with his little girl today.

"No, I'm happy to watch you," Chris said.

But India had spotted him and strained to be in his lap. "Sorry, I think your baby has different ideas," Tom said, hearing how disappointed he sounded.

"I should have stayed downstairs until you were finished," Chris said regretfully. "I'm sorry, Tom." He accepted India and finished dressing her. "There you go, you little fusser," he chided her gently. "Bottle, and then back to bed with you."

Tom got up to turn off the light over the changing table.

"Don't leave," Chris said immediately.

"I'm not, just turning off the light," Tom said. "Do you want to use the rocker?"

"No, come curl up with us here," Chris said.

Tom remembered Elsa's words. "Do you want to put her in the sleeping bag before you give her the bottle?"

"Good idea. I keep forgetting."

Properly ensconced in her sleep wear, India's eyes were already drooping when Chris settled her in his arm. "So tired, little sparrow." He kissed her forehead, then gave her the bottle. Tom sat down by his side and leaned against him, very tired, himself.

"Sorry she didn't want to stay with you," Chris said in a low voice.

"It's okay," Tom mumbled. "I guess it just takes time."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

"Do I still get that lotioning up that you promised?" Chris asked.

"If you still want to." It made Tom smile.

"Wouldn't want to miss it." He turned his head and kissed Tom's temple.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Take your robe off and lie down," Tom told him ten minutes later. He shook out a bath towel and placed it on the recliner.

Chris untied the knot and gave him a look. "Are you gunning for a fourth time?" he asked suspiciously.

Tom laughed. "I'm gunning to pamper you a little," he said frankly. "I don't think you'd survive a third time."

"I should be cross with you about that, but I guess you're right." Chris dropped to the recliner and sighed dramatically. "I think I'm getting old."

"That must be it. Roll over," Tom told him. "Let me drool on your back first."

"Heh heh heh." Chris did as he was told and groaned appreciatively when Tom settled on his butt and started massaging the lotion into his shoulders. "Oh god that feels good."

Tom squirted a little more of the lotion on Chris' back and took his time. His eyes half closed, he concentrated on how Chris felt under his hands, working himself into a kind of trance. He made sure to massage Chris' neck up to his hairline, then worked his way down one arm, then the other. He got a good glimpse of Chris' completely blissed-out expression before he settled on his legs and worked on his muscled butt. It was good work, he was breaking out in a light sweat, but didn't mind at all. Glimpses of his first time with Chris appeared in his mind, how they had each used massage oil on each other, Chris' spectacular body glistening in the low light. He'd been so excited, so nervous, his stomach full of butterflies, so incredibly aroused he could hardly breathe.

He worked his way down Chris' legs, kneading and prodding, gentle over the sensitive skin between his legs and at the back of his knees.

"Roll on your back, honey."

Chris did, and Tom got an eyeful of his truly glorious erection, settled proudly on Chris' stomach. "I see you're enjoying yourself," he said lightly.

Chris propped his head against a pillow and crossed his hands behind his neck. "Hard not to," he said softly. "Doesn't mean you have to do anything about it."

"Don't have to or shouldn't?" Tom asked, winking. He lotioned up his hands and started to work on Chris' feet.

"Good lord that shouldn't feel so good," Chris groaned.

Tom just smiled at him and went back to concentrating on his work. He made his way up Chris' legs once more, concentrated on getting every bit of Chris lotioned, including his cock. He was very matter-of-factly about it, ignoring Chris' little moan when he touched him, and worked his way up Chris' impressive six-pack to his pecs. He couldn't really help looking into his lover's face again at that point. Chris watched him with half-lidded eyes.

"Would you get out of that pajama?" Chris rumbled.

"Why?" Tom asked.

"Please. Let me watch you work."

"Have you decided whether I don't have to or shouldn't?" Tom asked, giving him a little smile.

Chris just grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. "Better." He reached for Tom's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

"I'm not finished," Tom panted.

"Yes, you are," Chris decided. His hand brushed over Tom's clearly visible erection and when Tom didn't protest, he palmed him deftly through his bottoms. "As of right now."

"Chris," Tom moaned. "I was really just trying to pamper you a little."

"You are pampering me a little," Chris insinuated. "Do it with you cock."

Tom chuckled. "You're so horny tonight."

"Says the right person," Chris pointed out, flushed and out of breath now. "Who had to come a third time before he's had enough? I think that was you. Just trying to catch up."

"True." Tom melted into Chris' kiss, letting his cock ride against his. "God, you drive me crazy."

"Good." Chris tugged at his bottoms, letting his erection spring forward. "Look at that, glorious thing." He ran the back of his fingers along it. He seemed to make a quick decision and the next thing Tom knew, he was on his back, and Chris was pulling down his bottoms, divesting them carelessly alongside the sofa. He settled down with Tom, running his hand appreciatively from his collar bone over his ribs, down to his erection. "Tom." He curled his fingers around it and stroked it deftly.

"Number four," Tom squeaked. "Be gentle about it."

Chris gathered him in his arms, against his body, and they kissed. Tom felt like he needed to jump out of his skin at the level of appreciation and attention he was receiving.

"I really wanted to pamper you for a change," he protested faintly. "Chris... oh my god." He arched into Chris' lips, which had wrapped around his nipple and sucked him fervently. "Fuck, Chris... please... _gently_...." His hand clawed into Chris' hair and he cried out at the strong suction. His body felt like it was on fire. "Do you love me that fiercely, you loon?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Does it show?" Chris gave him a full-on smolder and shifted up to kiss him.

Tom couldn't help but chuckle into the kiss. He was being tugged closer, Chris's powerful hand closing around one buttock possessively, and their cocks touched. Chris immediately started moving against him, his mouth mapping Tom's neck, nipping at his ear, nibbling along Tom's jaw.

Tom decided to just let go. If this was what Chris needed, he'd let him. He stretched into the kiss, holding on to the edge of the headboard with his fingertips, the little cry of appreciation from Chris all he needed as a reward. All he could do was ride the wave, letting Chris have his way with him, the way he held and handled him, lifted him into his mouth, suckled at his nipples, licked and sucked at the soft spot under his breast bone. He traced his ribs with his teeth, his powerful arms tightly around Tom's torso. He sat up on his knees, towering impressively over Tom, and reached for the lotion, squirting a line along the underside of Tom's cock. With a little shifting, he ended up straddling his legs, and leaned forward on one hand. His cock came to settle on Tom's, and Chris held Tom's erection lightly in place while his own slid on top of it.

Tom buried his hands in Chris' freshly washed hair, creating a scented curtain around them, shamelessly arching into his lover. This obviously wasn't a time to talk, just to be, be with each other, make sure the other knew exactly how much they were desired, wanted, craved. He'd lead their love making a lot lately, when Chris was so lost and was searching for answers, that suddenly feeling bathed in Chris' desire again, feeling just how powerful he really was, made his head swim. Chris mouthed his neck, his elevated breath sounding loudly in Tom's ear. Their earlier lovemaking meant that everything took longer now, and Chris brought himself to and then stayed at the brink for a very long time.

Chris finally came, sobbing out his orgasm, spurting his come across Tom's torso, the way he loved and craved it. He lapped some of it up and brought it to Tom's mouth, and Tom accepted it, and the breathless, heart rendering kiss that came with it.

Chris lay against his shoulder and Tom kissed his brow, holding him tight, when he whispered "Can I finish my work now?", and Chris laughed against his skin. He pulled him tightly against himself and they rested together for a while. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chris made sure to take care of Tom, cleaning him gently, and when he returned, he pulled out Tom's softest, thickest and by far plushiest blanket and wrapped them both in it, holding Tom as close as he possibly could.

"Are you okay, Chris?" Tom asked, his elegant fingers tracing along Chris' hairline.

Chris caught his hand and kissed his palm. "Yeah," he said, his voice rough with feeling. "Just never taking this for granted again."

"You made love to me like you were drowning," Tom said softly.

"Maybe I am," Chris murmured.

"Want to talk now?" Tom asked. It was a halting, gentle offer.

Chris shook his head. "Too afraid to say the wrong thing," he admitted.

"Hey." Tom shifted up and kissed him. His hand was cradling Chris' jaw, and his thumb traced his cheekbone. It felt warm and gentle, and he closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest into the touch.

"I don't want to fight again," Chris said against Tom's lips.

"I don't want to fight, either," Tom assured him.

"I need you too much," Chris sad.

"I'm glad you do," Tom said. "You know I need you."

Chris tried to burrow even closer, holding Tom tightly to himself.

"Chris, I'm here," Tom said. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you going to pick me up from counseling again on Thursday?" Chris ventured, knowing he was getting out of this warm cocoon onto some potentially thin ice.

"Does it help?" Tom asked.

Chris nodded tightly. He rested his forehead against Tom's shoulder, his eyes still closed, and mewled appreciatively when Tom started tracing gentle lines along his neck.

"Honey, I probably shouldn't say this, but... I think I got today why you were so wound up after your first counseling," Tom admitted, his voice a little wobbly. "I'm sorry my fears got the best of me and I made such a scene."

Chris stilled, and then puffed out a warm laugh against Tom's skin. He pushed back so he could look at Tom, searching his face, knowing how impossibly love-sick he must look. "I went completely overboard," he said. "I lost sight of what's most important to me right now. I took you for granted. I'll never make that mistake again." He pressed his lips to Tom's in affirmation. "Okay?"

"Just trying to take responsibility for my part," Tom said earnestly. "It wasn't just you."

"If you were tempted to leave me standing to care for some other chick who used to be your girlfriend, I wouldn't be very happy, either," Chris admitted.

"She's in so much pain. I can understand that you were trying to make it better."

Chris shook his head. "I lost sight of us, of this," he said in a low voice. "I'm not making that mistake again."

Tom looked at him, studied him, really. And finally, he gave a short nod. It wasn't yet a "I believe you". He would have to work for that. But at least it was a "I'm giving you another chance to prove yourself."

Chris kissed him again, almost shyly. He felt Tom's lips curving into a smile under his.

"We should make love after this," Tom whispered. "But I don't think I can."

They both broke out in helpless chuckles.

"Don't tell me I managed to wear you out," Chris teased gently.

"Yeah, you have," Tom admitted freely. "Or I would have come with you just a moment ago."

"I still feel like I could keep making love with you for the rest of the night," Chris confided. "I don't want to miss anything." He placed a soft kiss under Tom's ear.

"Hmmm..." Tom purred. "Doesn't speak anything against it, really."

Against all odds, Chris felt his arousal spiking once more. "Can't get enough of you tonight," he confessed.

"Chris?" Tom framed his face in his hands. "Tomorrow, will you talk with me?"

"What about?" Chris stalled. Tom just looked at him. "Not tonight," Chris said.

"Not tonight," Tom said. "But tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Chris turned Tom on his back and reveled in the friction of skin on skin as he covered Tom's body with his own. "But not right now." And he got busy again.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The next morning started nothing like the previous night had ended. They woke up to a phone beeping up a storm, and India was crying.

Both men groaned, puffy-eyed. Tom was still draped all over Chris, covering him deliciously and frankly, Chris would've liked to do something about it, but...

"Is that yours or mine?" Tom mumbled.

"The baby or the phone?" Chris asked. He reached blindly for the night light on his side of the bed and finally caught the switch. "Ouuuuch."

"I think we both know the baby's yours... God... loo."

"Hey." Chris caught him around his neck before Tom could push up. "Not without a proper good morning." He wanted to take his time kissing him, but India's cries turned up a pitch, and they both blew out an exasperated breath.

"Not meant to be this morning," Tom said. "Honey, I really need to go."

"I'm having a proper kiss later," Chris threatened.

"Okay." Tom pecked him quickly on the lips and then made a beeline for the bathroom.

Stark naked, Chris padded into the living room, where he had left his phone. Of course it was his. He took the call. "Good morning, Keith," he said.

"Let me guess – I woke you?"

"What gave me away?" Chris cleared his throat. "So what's it going to be this morning?" It had been up in the air the previous day whether he'd be needed on the set or on location with Natalie and Kat.

"Docklands, sorry," Keith said. "I'm sending Andrew around to fetch you at eight."

"That's a decent hour," Chris said appreciatively. "Might go back to bed."

"Might do," Keith said. "Call time is ten."

"Uh..." Chris took the stairs two steps at a time. "Wrap time?"

"Five, I reckon. You'll be out and about at six thirty-ish, I'd say."

"Thanks, Keith, I appreciate it." He opened the door to the nursery, giving Keith the benefit of India's full blown cry.

"Ah," Keith said against the din. "I hear you're busy. I'll leave you to it."

"Okay, thank you. I'll be ready at... oh, shit."

"Huh?"

"I have India today," he said. "Hey honey, what's wrong?" He leaned over the crib, and India gave him a few more dramatic sobs, but her eyes went round at seeing him. "Can I bring her on location?" He turned the phone to speaker and put it in the crib, then peeled India out of her sleeping bag. The smell was nausea inducing. "Oh boy," Chris said. "She might be sick."

"Can't Elsa take her?" Keith asked.

"She's having an audition today," Chris said. "I have India until three. One moment, Keith." He picked up baby and phone and brought both over to the changing table. "Do we have any options?"

"Let me check, Chris. Generally, I like a heads-up."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I thought I'd just bring her to daycare on set," Chris said. "Didn't think that far. Sorry."

"You start to sound like Tom," Keith said. "I'll be right back."

"Okay, I'll hold." He quickly took off India's sleepwear and onesie, which was already soiled. Outside, he heard the stairs creaking. Tom appeared in the door frame right after.

"Sheesh, Chris, put something on." Tom laughed. "Should I take over?"

Chris' eyes went wide and he pointed at the phone, then he put his finger on his lips and mouthed "Keith".

Fortunately, all that happened was that Tom's eyes went round and he stifled a laugh. "Did I say anything incriminating?" he asked in a low voice, but he was still grinning. "Good morning, India! Oh, are you having another full one?"

"Chris?" Keith's voice came out of the speaker.

"Yep." Chris juggled India's full nappy in his left hand while holding her feet up with his right. "Sorry, distracted by.. ew. Oh, India." He shuddered and disposed of the nappy. Tom already handed him a couple of wipes.

"One of those, huh?" Keith said, a father, himself. "Right-on for the God of Thunder." He chuckled.

Aggravatingly, so did Tom. "Yeah, how about it, Chris?" he smirked. "Mornin' Keith."

"Um, hi Tom."

"I cleaned up the last one," Tom shared freely. "Is that some initiation thing? If it isn't, it should be."

Chris just shook his head, having soiled his hands while cleaning up his squirming baby. "India, please hold still," he begged.

"Should I leave you to it?" Keith asked.

"Just tell me whether you can make it work," Chris growled, freeing another wipe.

"There's no one in from day care yet," Keith said. "They open at six."

"Try to get Miss Rose," Chris said. "Just call me back, okay?"

"It's that or a private nanny service," Keith said. "What do you prefer?"

"Try Miss Rose, India loves her," Chris insisted. "Call me when you know."

"Okay. Talk to you later." Keith hung up.

"What's up?" Tom asked. "Chris, really, I can take over for you if you want to get dressed, first?"

Leaning on the edge of the changing table, Chris blew out a breath.

"Okay," Tom said. "I'll start breakfast."

Chris caught his hand as he walked past.

"Tom."

"Really, it's okay." But he could see the hurt in Tom's eyes.

He really needed ten minutes with his baby. But he didn't want to have to clean up after a misunderstanding with Tom for the rest of the day if he let him go like this right now.

"It's hard," Tom said. "Knowing what's the right thing to do."

"Yeah."

India used that moment of inattention to roll on her stomach and make a grab for the phone, getting precariously close to the edge. "Careful, India." Tom quickly stepped closer and turned her on her back again. "You're getting too quick with that."

For some reason, that loosened the tension. Chris blew out a laugh against Tom's temple, resting his hand on his hip. "We're both lucky to have you," he said.

"It's okay if you want time alone with her," Tom said, rubbing India's tummy. "Just trying to find out what you want, Chris."

"Give me a moment to say good morning to her properly?" Chris asked. He turned Tom's head and kissed him full on the lips. He felt them curve into a smile under his. "Or that."

Tom followed up with two more. "Okay, better."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Tom patted his side. "They were still missing and you promised." He waved at India. "See you two later."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom had to leave at six, so breakfast wasn't a lengthy affair. They barely had time to share coffee and some cereal, which Chris had to postpone because he was feeding a very hungry India.

He was aware that Tom was watching everything very attentively, and that his brain was cooking up something, but the time was simply too short to get into anything other than the absolutely necessary things for the day. Who was going where, where they would meet in the evening, sorry that they couldn't see each other for lunch, would Chris call – he would try but he had India – and again, that thoughtful expression on Tom's face that made Chris' stomach want to turn.

When the doorbell rang and Tom had to get into his coat to leave, Chris put India in the daybed with a few toys and went with him into the hallway, pulling him into his arms.

"It's okay, honey," Tom said.

"I don't feel that it is," Chris said genuinely. "I think you're not telling me what you're thinking."

"Tonight, though?" Tom said. "Let's talk tonight?"

"Okay." Suddenly, _the talk_ sounded more like an opportunity than a challenge. "Promise?"

"Promise. I'll be all yours."

He couldn't help but kiss him. Tom returned the kiss just as soulfully, and they were both breathing hard when they finally made themselves stop.

Andrew rang a second time.

"I've got to go," Tom breathed. "I see you tonight."

Another quick peck and he was gone.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa pays an unexpected visit to the set. Tom does something terribly romantic for Chris.

In the car to work, Chris sat in the back with India and found himself looking forward to his day. He'd spent two undisturbed hours with his baby, making her laugh. He'd taken time to properly show her her new home, and had her "help" him clean up the kitchen and the bedroom, which she'd done with relish. Just having her around was wonderful, having her around just to himself was a treat he had not even looked for, but appreciated all the more now.

When they arrived, Miss Rose was already waiting and didn't mind accompanying him to make-up and costume as long as India was happy. By the time he was in full costume, India was ready for her mid-morning bottle and her nap. He kissed her nose goodbye and was already looking forward to seeing her at lunch.

He refreshed his memory regarding his lines and still had to wait a moment for his scene. He took the time to send a quick message to Tom: "You were right, btw," it read. "Had a great time hanging out w/India on my own. Are you okay?"

Delightfully, Tom's message back came quickly. "Planning our evening. Be ready for surprises. xox"

He had enough time to type "You're making me curious. What kinds of surprises?" before he was called on set to perform.

  
  


Breaking for lunch, he read Tom's reply: "Wouldn't be a surprise if I told," it read predictably. "PS: It involves water."

It made Chris grin. He got his lunch and went back to the trailer where Miss Rose was playing with India. He let her go to lunch, herself, and spent some time sitting on the floor with his baby in his lap, sharing his food with her. He let Tom know that he was available to talk and no five minutes later, he had him on the phone.

"Hey lovely," Chris said, knowing he was pulling a goofy grin.

"Hey." Tom sounded about as smitten. "How is your day going?"

"Fine," Chris said, wanting to crawl through the phone. "Yours?"

"Uh-huh," Tom said. "More time in the dungeon with the second unit. I'm standing in my cell, reacting to what's going on outside or pretending to read a book. Too much time to think."

"Good thoughts?" Chris asked, refusing for once to jump to a foregone conclusion.

"Basically, that I'd rather be with you than here," Tom said.

"So, good thoughts." Chris felt a warm shiver down his back. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Tom grew quiet.

"What?" Chris asked, and took another bite of his lunch.

"Nothing. Just happy being on the phone with you," Tom said. "There's stuff on my mind but I just want to listen to you breathe."

It made Chris' heart flutter and he allowed himself to just be present with this, the almost preternatural pull between them that was still there, despite their recent troubles, if he just allowed himself to feel it. "That's good," he said gently.

"We're horrible saps," Tom confided.

"Loving every moment of it," Chris admitted. He adjusted India to sit between his legs so she could continue to play with the toys she and Miss Rose had been playing with earlier. "Lots on my mind, too, but I don't want to spoil the moment."

Tom took a moment to think. "Can we remember this," he finally said thoughtfully. "Can we just remember this when things aren't going the way they should?"

"Remember what?" he just wanted to hear Tom say it.

"How... truly devoted we are to each other," Tom said carefully, choosing each word as he spoke it.

"Committed?" Chris ventured, knowing he was treading uncertain ground.

"Two different things." He could hear Tom smile. "But I'm happy to talk commitment if you are?"

Chris shivered. "Committed to make it work," he said softly.

"Yeah."

"Can't wait for tonight," Chris said. "Hope the surprise is good."

"Horribly romantic," Tom assured him. "I hope I'm not taking it overboard." He chuckled. "Literally."

"Not used to being romanced," Chris admitted.

"Good," Tom said suggestively. "I like being your first."

When they finally hung up because Tom was being called back to the set, Chris couldn't help but think he must have done _something_ right the previous night.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Letting India go after lunch was as heartbreaking as ever. He hugged and cuddled her and told her they'd see each other again tomorrow. Elsa had acknowledged his text earlier and would pick her up soon, but it was unlikely he'd be on a break that moment.

To his surprise, Elsa stayed until he had time to talk, and it made him distinctly uncomfortable that she would choose such a public venue to do it. She didn't even wait in the trailer but watched them work for a while as Chris was suspended from a harness, "landing" on the site with his hammer.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she said when he finally joined her as they set up a different angle. "For acting out yesterday."

Chris was uncomfortably aware that every eye was on them. Maybe that was the point, to make it public. He'd told her that Tom and he weren't out on the set, so maybe she was staking a claim that she knew Tom wouldn't contest.

"It was pretty bad," he agreed. "Was it really necessary?"

"He had to come and pick you up," she said testily. "What did you expect?"

"I asked him to," Chris clarified. "And he was making a point of waiting outside so he wouldn't get into your space."

"You can't even be five minutes without each other?" she asked incredulously.

Chris shook his head. "None of your business," he said clearly. "Wrong time and wrong place to bring it up, too. Here? Really?"

She eyed him uneasily.

"How did your audition go?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Okay," she said. "Won't hear until Friday, maybe even Saturday."

He nodded. "Do we have a babysitter for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Tom?" she asked back.

Chris shook his head. "Maybe he would have done it if you'd taken the time to give him some help," he pointed out.

"I told you why I can't," she shot back.

He shrugged. "Maybe," he suggested, "you could've looked past that and figured that he really cares for India and wants to make sure he's doing things the way you prefer. Maybe you could've taught him a thing or two that India would have benefited from."

"I'm not here to make his life easier," she spat back. "And I have no interest in him getting along with my child."

He just raised his brows at her. "Good to know," he said neutrally.

"Chris, you're really asking too much!" she said, and her voice got louder, attracting more attention.

"Okay, let's end this here," Chris took charge. "I need to be back on the set in two." He'd seen the first AD make signs at him. "Babysitter for tomorrow? Do you want me to call in a service?"

"I'll call Dr Casey's office and see if they have someone," Elsa said. "No use bringing her somewhere else for such a short time."

"Okay," he agreed. "Let me know what time you want to pick her up on Friday."

She gave him an unsure look.

"I need to let the production know," he clarified. "We had a bit of upheaval this morning because I was suddenly scheduled for location. If we're out here on Friday, they need to bring someone here, and Keith asked to let him know if that happens again."

"You won't be able to manage this alone," she prophesied.

"Might have to think about a nanny, yes." Chris said. "As Tom is really busy, as well."

"Maybe then you'll get how much I've been doing for you and India all this time and asked for nothing back." She turned on her heel and walked off, nicely timed with the moment Chris had to be back on set.

Chris found it very difficult to get back into character after that.

  
  


* * *

  
  


A couple of hours later he found out that Elsa had done even more. When a scene with both Natalie and Kat came up, he could tell that Kat eyed him carefully, and he didn't really know why. The scene took several takes to film, and then the cameras were set at a different angle and they had time for a sip of water, and Kat came up to Natalie to talk to her in a low voice. Natalie's brow knit, and she shook her head and then said something, but Kat kept insisting and looking at Chris. Chris was suddenly uncomfortably reminded of fourth grade when whispering, scheming girls his age had made him just as nervous.

He decided to be proactive and sauntered up to them. "Anything I can help you with?" he asked. "You kept looking my way...?"

Kat immediately straightened and got ready for a reply. Natalie sighed. "It's not really any of our business, Chris."

"Well if what she said was true..." Kat started.

"Said what? Who?" Chris took another sip of water.

"I met Elsa earlier when she was here," Kat said boldly. "Is it true you broke up because you cheated on her with someone else?"

It hit him like a brick. "Say what?" he said, blinking.

"I talked to her," Kat put her hands on her hips. "She picked up India."

"I know she picked up India, I talked to her, too," Chris said. "She said I cheated on her?"

Faced with his obvious wrath, Kat backpedaled. "Well not in so many words," she said.

"Why are you telling lies, then?" Chris asked. Angry didn't cover it.

"She said you fell in love with someone else, okay?" Kat threw up her hands.

Natalie touched his arm. "Is that true?"

He blew out a breath and shook his head slowly, completely incredulous about what was happening here. "We broke up," he said. "Everything else is between Elsa and me."

"But if it was your fault..." Kat started again.

"Do you want to announce it to everyone?" Chris asked. "Really? I'll hoist you up that crane, myself." He indicated the crane that he'd been suspended on for most of the afternoon. "So that absolutely everyone knows, because it's absolutely _everyone's_ business." He could not believe that Elsa had talked to the chattiest person in the whole entire cast about this.

"Kat, let it go," Natalie said.

"Well, we all thought you were so _nice_ ," Kat said. "I can't believe you'd do that to her!"

"Done discussing it," he said. "None of your business."

Kat huffed. "I'll figure it out, whether you like me to or not," she declared. She gave him a very judgmental once-over.

Chris walked away a few steps and found a low wall to sit on, trying to calm his racing heart. He wanted nothing so much as call Tom, but of course he couldn't, not right now. At the same time, he was furious that Elsa had ruined what had promised to become a beautiful evening with Tom. He had to tell him. And once he had, he knew they'd be talking and worrying about it all night. It wasn't fair. He felt betrayed and incredulous about the lengths Elsa was going to – to what end? He just didn't get it. There was nothing to win for her if it all came out.

He nearly didn't notice Natalie sitting down beside him. She'd put on a fluffy jacket against the cold and had her hands buried deep in her pockets.

He was wringing Mjolnir's handle in his hands, just to have something to heft and grab. They didn't talk for a while, but her presence helped him. Just knowing that someone had heard and didn't shun him on hearsay, believed that there might be more to the story than the simple: "You cheated." Even if it was true.

She waited until there was a particularly heated discussion going on in the crew, and no one paid any attention to them, and then said quietly: "Is it Tom?"

He couldn't say anything, feeling completely petrified. This was not how he'd envisioned him coming out to anyone on the set. He was so proud and honored to be with Tom. He didn't want Tom to be the butt end of a horrible joke, didn't want to expose him to hatred or spitefulness by being associated with what wrong he did to Elsa. His protective hackles rose. "What of it?" he heard himself say roughly, realizing just a heartbeat too late that he'd just acknowledged Natalie's suspicion.

She quietly leaned against his shoulder and snaked her small hand along his arm until it was nestled in his. He had to let go of Mjolnir to hold it, but he was glad to do it. Her faith gave him hope and he finally managed to take a deep breath.

"I thought so," she said quietly. She didn't look at him and they didn't talk more than that but her quiet support meant the world.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chris resisted the urge to call Elsa and pull off her head. He managed to end the day's takes, took his leave of everyone and plugged his ears with headphones while he was peeled out of his costume and his make-up artist took care of his skin.

He took a shower in his trailer and checked his phone. Tom had called.

"Hey," he said when he had him on the line." Where are you?"

"On my way to you," Tom said, sounding excited and happy. "I can wait on the set if you still need a moment? I just couldn't wait to see you."

"I'm ready to be picked up," Chris said. "Can't wait to see you, either."

"I'm about half an hour out," Tom said. "Want to keep talking?"

"Please." He took a sip of his Coke and cooled his forehead with the cold bottle.

"You okay?" Tom asked perceptively.

"Not really," Chris had to admit.

"Talk to me?"

It took Chris a moment to find the right words. "I came out to Natalie," he finally said.

"Oh?" Tom didn't sound worried, more curious and excited. "How come?"

"She... kind of guessed," Chris said. "Sorry it wasn't some heroic profession of love."

"It's okay." But he could hear that Tom had expected more.

"Tom, you know what you mean to me, right? That I would protect you if I thought something was about to happen to you?"

"You're starting to worry me," Tom admitted.

"Elsa was on the set to pick up India, and she ran into Kat. And she told Kat that we'd broken up because I fell in love with someone else," Chris said. "So Kat came up to me all righteous fury, and... I kind of told her to shut up, that it was none of her business."

"Chris, I'll stand right by you," Tom said. "If you want us to come out, I'm ready to come out. I'm not letting you take this on by yourself."

Chris blew out a breath. "Hah," he said. "See, I'm not sure I am. Ready to come out to all and sundry, I mean."

"Tell me why," Tom said.

"It's too... personal, Tom," Chris said. "I love you too... not too much. Too privately. In a way that I want to share with you only at the moment, not the rest of the world." When Tom didn't answer right away, he said: "I'm sorry if that disappoints you."

"It doesn't," Tom said. "What did Natalie say?"

"Not much. She followed me around and then sat down with me and just asked, 'Is it Tom?'." He laughed softly. "And I'd been hackles raised ready to defend you right away and asked, 'What of it?'."

"What did she say in response?"

"Nothing. Just sat there and held my hand," Chris admitted, chagrined.

"I think I've just found a million new reasons to love her." Tom said.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom had rented a boat for them.

Standing on the bank of the Thames glistening with a million lights reflected in the water, Chris didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

"I ordered dinner for us," Tom said. "The boat is going all the way up to Kew Gardens and then we'll take a cab home." He gave Chris a sideways glance. "Do you like it?"

"I'm speechless." He just assumed that Tom had made sure the staff was discreet. He simply pulled Tom closer and kissed him. "Thank you."

Tom beamed. "I thought we'd wanted dinner somewhere private and have a quiet evening."

"Yeah." Chris' heart felt like it expanded exponentially. He was so relieved. Relieved that for once, at the end of the day, he could just rest in what he had with Tom, instead of having it piled on there, as well. The relief was so great that he felt tears shoot into his eyes and he found himself wiping at them.

"Hey." Of course Tom noticed and nudged him gently. "The food isn't supposed to be that bad."

"Right." He managed a watery smile and kissed Tom again. "All aboard?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


They had aperitifs on the show deck while the boat embarked on its journey along the river. The sight was so gorgeous that neither of them talked much, and they just snuggled into the blankets provided by the attentive staff and took in the view, bodies pressed against each other for warmth, their hands entwined under the blankets.

"What made you think of this?" Chris finally asked. "Tom, it blows everything out of the water that I've done for you so far."

"No, it doesn't." Tom smiled at him. "Told you I'd get more involved in how our relationship is running."

"This is you getting more involved?" Chris squawked. "Please don't stop."

"I won't." Tom pressed his hand and moved his leg so it hooked over Chris' knee. "For warmth."

"Can I kiss you for warmth?"

"If you must," Tom allowed, but he easily moved into the kiss when Chris dipped his head and they took their time getting reacquainted with each other's taste and touch. They ended up with their heads leaned against each other as they took in the breathtaking scenery of a nightly London gliding past them, their hands tightly entwined, but otherwise completely still. The moment was so beautiful that it felt to Chris as if his heart was threatening to burst.

When the announcement came that dinner was ready for them, he wasn't ready for it, but his stomach was. They repaired inside to a festively decked table with a beautiful view outside and so many wonderful delicacies that Chris didn't quite talk for a while until his grumbling stomach had been satisfied.

Coffee and ice cream was served on the observation deck, and then a savory red wine. Both of them settled back into the soft cushions and just enjoyed the scenery, and each other's presence.

"Love you, love you, love you," Chris whispered into Tom's ear, making him smile.

"I love you, too."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey." Tom looked at him. "How are you doing with being romanced?"

"Surprisingly well. Like I've never done anything else."

"It's quite easy to get used to, isn't it?" Tom smiled at him.

"I want to make love with you," Chris said with a rough voice.

"Right here?" Tom's voice was like velvet.

"I could settle for home," Chris allowed. "A little more privacy."

"Uh-huh." Tom studied his face attentively, his eyes flitting from one point to the next.

"Hm?"

"Just trying to commit this to memory," Tom said.

"What's going on?" Chris put his glass of wine away and shifted in his seat so he could fully look at Tom.

Tom sighed, as if he was gathering courage for something.

"Tom?"

"Listen," Tom said. "Okay, that came out wrong." He gnawed his lower lip and gave Chris an insecure smile. "Okay, I'm starting to see how difficult this can be."

"Can what be?" Chris was really curious now.

"Um... maybe... shit." Tom laughed. "I'm an idiot."

"What's going on?"

"I had a speech prepared," Tom said. "And... god." He blew out a breath. "Okay. This is hard. Let me try again." He composed himself. Chris sat up and mustered him curiously. It was an interesting sensation, seeing Tom nervous and at a loss of words. Nothing that happened a lot. Then Tom pulled out a jewelery box and Chris felt a little as if the floor was falling out from under him.

"It's not what you think!" Tom, noticing his expression, appeased. "Oh god, I'm completely messing this up. Worst non-proposal ever."

By now, Chris started to be amused. A little, at least. Seeing Tom so completely flustered was incredibly endearing. "Do you want to start over?" he asked, surprised at how gentle his voice sounded.

Tom gave him a desperate look. "At least it's going to be memorable," he said self-deprecatingly. "Heh." He put the box on the table and took a sip of his wine for courage. "Okay. Here we go again." He straightened his shoulders, ruffled once through his hair and got down on one knee. "Chris."

Chris' voice was gone.

"I want to do this again some time when we're both ready for it," Tom said. "I'll be in a tux, honestly."

Chris couldn't help but laugh.

"And lacquered shoes. I promise."

"What do you want to say?" Chris asked.

"Right. I need to get past the introduction, right?"

"Please." He wasn't sure he was ready for what would come next, but just to help Tom over his awkwardness he would play along.

"I'm... Chris, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Oh god."

"Yeah. Is it that bad?" Tom inclined his head.

"No." Chris shook his head. "Just unexpected after... everything."

"Right." Tom cleared his throat. "That's... that's why I'm doing what I'm doing, actually. Chris... you keep helping me understand and overcome my fears, and... and you've already done so much for me to get me out of my shell. You've been there for me when I needed you and... you make me feel really safe with all this new stuff that's been coming up."

"Mostly," Chris amended, very well aware that he'd not quite been all that this past weekend.

"I was thinking... Chris, I want something to hold on to when you're not there and... I know you have your doubts."

"Not about you," Chris murmured.

"I know. When this first happened, I had huge doubts and you pulled me through, you... we're here because you loved me so much that you refused to give up on me. And now... I feel like... would you be willing to trust me when I tell you we'll make it through? And that I believe in you, even if you sometimes can't believe in yourself?"

"Where is this going?" Chris croaked.

"I've been thinking... about what you said a couple of nights ago, and how you've been behaving since then. How you wished you'd bought a second bracelet and... how scared you were I'd ever let you go. Maybe I'm an idiot – I think not – but... I'm just going to go ahead and give this to you or I'll never get done." He shifted awkwardly from his knee to the edge of the sofa, and opened the box. "Chris... I bought this, because I really selfishly want to be close to your heart every day, even though I can't always be there in person. I wish I could have been on Saturday." His voice faltered. "I'm sorry I wasn't."

With a sinking heart, Chris realized that Tom was talking about his first counseling. The lump in his throat was too big for him to formulate a reply.

"See, I... I got us these." He freed a golden, bullet shaped object from the fluffy padding in the box, and held it aloft on its gold chain. "Mine is silver." He gave Chris a quick smile.

"What is it?"

"It's... look. It's hollow." Tom quickly unscrewed the cylinder. In it was a tiny scroll of fine paper. "Read it?" Tom said. "I'm sorry, it's nothing special, just..."

With trembling fingers, Chris freed the paper from its confinement. He unfurled it. In Tom's characterful handwriting, it said: _Never doubt that I love._

"Do you like it?" Tom asked anxiously. "I... I didn't know if I should sign it, since we're still not out publicly... in case you lose it, or someone grabs it, or..."

Chris drew a shuddering breath. "For me?"

"Yeah." Catching on that Chris was touched by the gift, Tom's smile grew more genuine. "Is it good?"

"Will you put it on me already?" Chris asked, his heart beating hard in his chest. He watched Tom carefully fit the scroll back into its casing, and then screw the casing shut. He lifted the amulet by its ball chain and held it so he could fit it over Chris' head. After ducking into the chain and feeling Tom's arms around his neck, Chris wasn't reluctant about shamelessly using the situation to pull Tom close and kiss him. For quite some time.

"Do you like it, then?" Tom finally asked breathlessly, against his lips.

"Yeah." His hand felt for the amulet and pressed it against his chest.

"You're supposed to wear it on your skin," Tom suggested. "As close to your heart as possible."

"Where's yours?" Chris asked.

"Um, here." Reluctantly, Tom let go of him and pulled the second amulet out of the box.

"Have you got something to write?" Without hesitation, Tom took a small pen and another piece of paper out of his pocket. "I practiced," he admitted. "My hand was shaking."

Chris gave him a quick smile. He was on a mission now. He accepted Tom's silver amulet and unscrewed it quickly, recovering the pristine white paper. He only used Tom's practice paper to make sure the pen was working, then set his words boldly in writing. Tom closed the pen for him while he gently blew on the ink to dry it. When he was finished, he let go of one end and the scroll curled up on itself. "Here." He handed it over.

Tom gave him a look and accepted it, and with an expectant, nervous smile, read the message. " _Always coming back for more._ "

"Is that good enough?" Chris asked, suddenly insecure. "Should I think of something... oh." Apparently, he shouldn't have worried. Tom's eyes were brimming with tears when he nodded quickly. "Hey." Chris kissed him gently. "Let me put this on you?"

Tom was never wearing jewelery, except for his watch. The thought that this sentiment of his was the only thing he would allow himself to wear was especially touching. Chris made sure it was settled on Tom's chest properly. When it was done, they just kind of stared at each other, a little embarrassed and flushed and extremely emotional.

Chris poured them some more wine, and Tom put the box, paper and pen away.

Gradually, they allowed themselves to settle down again, giving each other nervous little smiles. Chris handed Tom his wine. They clinked glasses and drank. There was so much going through Chris' mind. He was still such a mess, and there was still so much to deal with. Their path wouldn't just smooth out because they were now wearing these pendants with a scribbled-on piece of paper inside. 

And yet. 

And yet Tom's " _Never doubt that I love_ " seemed to pulsate on his chest until his whole body was in tune with it, and he couldn't do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, no Elsa bashing in the comments.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Tom deal with the sudden shift towards serious commitment in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wore out a couple of fire extinguishers while writing this chapter. It's not safe for work. And it's happy. I really needed a happy chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Chris thought he could quite distinctly remember that Tom had wanted to talk that evening, but neither of them did. He didn't know what was going through Tom's mind; he could hardly catch a clear thought, himself. He was so hyper-aware of Tom by his side, of his own proximity to him that his whole body felt like a live wire that started humming every time they got too close.

Tom must have felt similarly; they didn't even hold hands or have a lot of eye contact. When the boat landed at Kew Gardens, Chris helped Tom into his coat and they said their thank you's to the staff for a truly outstanding evening, and then climbed into the limousine that Tom had chartered for the way home.

It wasn't a stretch, but it had privacy and space and because Chris scooted in first, Tom basically landed in his lap when he followed. Chris waited for the chauffeur to close the door, both of them frozen in their positions, Tom's back half-pressed against Chris' front, and Chris' cock rising so quickly that he had to shift and adjust his trousers because it became very uncomfortable, very fast.

The limo started, and Chris' nose was still buried against the back of Tom's head, inhaling the smell of his hair and the fine sheen of sweat that had built on his skin. His breath sounded so harsh and loud in the silence but he couldn't help it. Tom reached back and entwined their hands.

Chris whimpered into Tom's hair.

The air was so charged with energy it was hard to breathe.

"Look at me," Chris finally panted. "Dammit, Tom, please."

It was easy to see that Tom was as aroused as he was when he turned around. Their hands shifted, sliding up arms to shoulders, to hold necks, thumbs brushing over scruffy cheeks, fingers burying into hair and then, finally, tongues meeting in an excruciatingly deep, slow, hair-raising it its intensity kiss. They both moaned, which did not help one iota, but the way they kissed did not change. Slow. Intense. Deep. And neither one of them making one single move to escalate things, as if they were both afraid they would kick something lose that they could not control once they had. Them, who had defiled quite a few back seats since they had become involved and thought nothing of it.

It was a thirty-minute drive back to their flat. Chris' cock felt like it would burst. He didn't care. He held and kissed Tom, licked at his lips, inhaled his breath, burned the way he smelled and felt, how he tasted and the desperate sounds his throat made, into his skull for eternity.

They finally arrived, flushed, lips bruised and swollen. He thought they must both look completely mad, and only the length of their coats preserved a modicum of their dignity. Chris went ahead and unlocked the door while Tom said a few pleasantries to the chauffeur and sent him on his way. The way the fabric of his shirt shifted on Chris' hardened nipples was maddening. He wanted Tom so badly he felt his skin was screaming.

Tom followed him into the flat, into the darkened hallway, and closed the door behind them. They stood in the darkness, their breathing harsh and loud. He felt Tom's breath against his cheek as he leaned into him. And then, his fingers, following the back of his thigh up under his coat, eliciting an involuntary moan as he settled just below his butt, in the warmth between his legs, and rubbed there.

"I want you to clean up for me," Tom said, his voice raw. "Make yourself ready."

Chris bit his lower lip, grimacing with the thickness of his arousal. "What for?" he asked, knowing quite, _quite_ well what for.

Tom blew out an amused breath, appreciating the foreplay for what it was. He captured Chris' hand and lead it under his own coat, against his hard, hot, still jean-clad cock. "This," he said. "Make yourself ready for this."

Tom had never plainly told him he wanted him that way, it had always been up to Chris to say yes to an open question, or to suggest it at all. For all Chris knew, it wasn't something that Tom especially enjoyed, just something that he knew Chris enjoyed, and needed, and Tom was a considerate lover and made sure he had what he craved. To be so lewd, to indicate very plainly that right now, that cock very, very much needed to be up Chris, buried deep inside of him, and to tell Chris in no uncertain terms to make sure that he was spic-and-span the way Tom liked it, and ready to take him, was a turn-on that almost fried Chris' synapses right then and there.

"And no touching yourself or making yourself come," Tom directed, his breath hot against his ear. "I'm a very jealous lover tonight."

"Okay." Chris swallowed thickly.

"Meet me in the bathroom when you're ready." Chris heard Tom's smile in the darkness. "I love you."

And he just disappeared into the living room, closing the door behind him.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit." Chris leaned against the dresser, so close to coming that he knew if he brushed his cock against his jeans right now, that would be it. He couldn't think about Tom, couldn't think about what he was possibly doing right now. Instead, he directed his thoughts towards his supplies in the guest bathroom, thinking about what he needed to do to get ready, which was hardly very arousing at the best of times. Very slowly, his arousal died down to a manageable level and he quickly divested himself of coat and shoes, then jeans and jumper, leaving both quickly folded on the dresser.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He was stark naked when he padded back into the hallway fifteen minutes later. His clothes on the dresser were gone, which made him smile, and Tom's shoes and coat had joined his own. His underwear had had a huge pre-come stain in front which looked very uncomely, so he chose not to wear anything but Tom's necklace.

He didn't quite know what would await him. The living room was dark, and so was the kitchen, but there was some light falling through a crack in the bedroom door. He padded across the living room and opened the door, finding, to his delight, Tom naked on his back on the bed, his lower arm across his eyes. It had been a moment since that last encounter in the hallway, so neither man was still in an aroused state, but just seeing Tom lie there like that made Chris' cock stir.

He knew Tom must have heard him, and the twitch in his hand told Chris that he was awake. He walked to the foot of the bed and started to crawl up Tom's body, stopping unapologetically over his hips, starting to kiss a line between his hip bones, licking at the finely outlined muscles, until Tom's cock showed definite signs of interest.

He was not ashamed of servicing Tom that way. Their couplings were usually intimate, heartfelt and full of love, but for some reason, tonight, it was about.... he couldn't quite pinpoint it, but Tom's hands in his hair, holding him still while he started to use his mouth for his pleasure, seemed to reinforce his impression. Chris strained to pleasure Tom, opening his throat as far as he could when Tom's movements became more demanding. Tom began to perspire, his natural musk more apparent. He brought himself to full arousal and then let Chris know he wanted to stop.

They looked at each other, Chris' chin on his folded hands on Tom's stomach. 

Chris' eyebrow twitched. Tom smiled and sat up, the amulet on his chest swinging forward.

That was it, wasn't it?

Chris rushed to sit in his lap, supported by his folded legs, their cocks meeting in the middle. Sharing this, giving each other promises... to love. To always come back for more, no matter what. It was serious. Breathtaking. He'd not been ready to make promises because he didn't trust himself yet, didn't want to make them, and then possibly break them, break Tom the way he had Elsa. In the middle of the storm, Tom made the move he couldn't, found a way to let him know that he was, and would be, safe with Tom. That Tom was not afraid of tying himself to Chris, even if Chris wasn't sure if he was worthy of it yet. Any way, he realized breathlessly, they were way past the point of no return. Battling through the previous weekend, Tom had very decisively pointed out that wondering through each misunderstanding if this was the straw that broke the camel's back was no way to live. Chris was suddenly very, very glad that some part of him had understood what was happening and had made him stay, and not overstretch Tom's patience and trust. That in the end, had wanted Tom more than he had wanted to punish himself.

He couldn't say any of this. Apparently, neither could Tom. The past weekend, with its back-and-forth swells of argument and exhaustion, had made fairly clear that words only got you so far.

And here came this _idiot_ and made a fucking gesture so profound it knocked all words out of Chris. He found himself threading his amulet with Tom's, hooking it into his chain. He was a bloody romantic idiot, himself. A bloody romantic idiot who needed Tom.

Tom watched him, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice deep and friendly.

Chris nodded eagerly, making Tom laugh. The first shock of what they had done, and what it might mean, was starting to wear off. He received Tom's kiss happily, pressed into the hands that began to caress his back, like a cat. Tom let his fingers run down his erection, making him tremble. Chris found himself as responsive to Tom's touch as a fine-tuned instrument.

Apparently, so did Tom.

"Come, then," he said, making sure he'd unthreaded their chains before they got up. Neither man took the amulet off.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The bathroom was bathed in candlelight and pleasantly warm to their naked bodies. Chris didn't quite know what to expect, were they bathing? Showering? When he turned around to ask Tom, he found his lover lubing up his cock until it glistened in the candlelight. The sudden arousal made Chris' mouth dry.

Tom smiled at him as he wiped his fingers on a towel. "How ready are you?" he asked.

"Hrrrgh." Chris had to free his throat by coughing. "I tried something new," he admitted. "Feels pretty ready. Slippery." He coughed again, his cock almost uncomfortably hard and a bit painful when it moved in reaction to the cough.

"Do we need extra lube?" Tom asked, holding the tube aloft.

"Maybe a little, I don't know." Chris desperately wished for something to hold on to.

Tom gave him something.

"You were telling me," he said into Chris' ear, slinging an arm around his torso from behind, "that if I wanted you to move in with me, I should get us a mirror over our bed."

"I did?" Chris squeaked. "I did?"

"Our first weekend. You asked for a sex swing and a mirror over our bed," Tom reminded him bemusedly.

"Oh." Chris had no recollection of that. Or maybe it was all the blood in his brain wandering south.

"I can't bolt one to the ceiling without alarming the landlord," Tom confided, his cock pressing against Chris' crack. "But I want to make love with you while we watch in the mirror."

"The fuck..."

"I want you to hold on to the towel heater," Tom said, leading him over to the radiator bolted into wall. 

The first three rungs from the top were free, but Tom had hung a soft sauna towel down the rest. It was warm and comfortable against Chris' skin.

"Look to your right," Tom said softly. He smoothed himself to Chris' back and kissed his shoulder reverently.

Chris looked. Tom had placed the standing mirror that was usually in his walk-in-closet in a way that they could see each other in it. The level of planning and sexual innuendo was a little mind blowing.

"When did you think of all this?" Chris asked, already reacting to Tom's kisses along his spine.

"Here and there," Tom murmured, letting his hands run over Chris' pecs. "I can't wait..." he moaned. "Chris... spread your legs."

Chris had never in his life let anyone tell him what to do in bed. When he was making love with Elsa, he was the big bear who had to hold back so not to crush her, he was courteous, loving and kind, doing what she loved, but it was clear he was the one who was in charge, always.

He spread his fucking legs.

Tom bit into the meat of his shoulder in reaction, and pressed his cock against Chris again. His hand traveled to Chris' back and spread his cheeks, letting his fingers running into his crack.

"Oh fuck," he gasped. "You're dripping."

Chris saw with satisfaction that that had some effect on Tom. He started to warm to the idea that he could see Tom and what he was doing even though he stood behind him. To be fair, they were quite a pair; both him and Tom in peak condition, not a gram of fat too much, tall, striking men with a good degree of muscle definition... seeing Tom's ass work while he took him would be a piece of art.

"You like that?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"What did you do?" He felt Tom lead the tip of his cock between his ass cheeks, and he shuddered.

"Mix in some lube," Chris gasped. "I lubed up when I was clean, too."

"Hmmm..." Tom pressed the tip of his cock against his hole. "You must really, _really_ want this."

The lack of foreplay said everything about their mutual need. The acceptance on both sides that it might be uncomfortable at first, as well. Chris closed his eyes and moved into the penetration, but he found himself moaning out the sensation of Tom's big cock breaching him. It felt absolutely fantastically intrusive and he started to laugh at the pain. Tom was careful as always to proceed slowly, but he shook his head.

"No, in. All the way in... To... _fuck_... Tom." He found himself holding on to that rack for dear life, his toes curling into the fluffy bath mat at his feet. "Fuck," he panted. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck." It felt like having a hot iron rod up his ass. He allowed himself to feel how incredibly full he was, how his body adjusted to Tom's size and girth. As soon as it was marginally comfortable, he moved back into his lover, and Tom started to gently rock into him.

"Open your eyes," Tom told him.

Chris did, looking right into the mirror. He was already sweating, his hair damp at his temples, fingers curled tightly around the towel heater's uppermost rung. Behind him, Tom was holding his hips in place while he slowly pumped into him. Chris moaned and stuck out his ass, taking a lower rung. On its way out, Tom's cock brushed his prostrate and Chris shuddered, drawing a hissing breath.

Tom wasn't an idiot, he kept it up until Chris' cock was leaking, a clear sign that his prostrate was being thoroughly stimulated. Then he directed him towards the upper rung and took him, hard. Chris started to get lightheaded from breathing so hard, the sight in the mirror so fucking erotic, he could hardly hold on to himself. But Tom didn't touch him, and didn't allow him to touch himself, until he came into Chris, pumping him full of his seed, his face torn in ecstasy.

There were so many warring emotions in Chris that he had no idea what to do about them. He wanted to come, badly so, but he had basically told Tom to use him as he pleased, and being used like that was incredibly arousing. Watching Tom come like that was fucking arousing. Feeling him fill him up, going for another and then another pump was indescribable, but mixed with the frustration of not knowing if he would get what he wanted, it was confusing and heady.

Tom pulled out, and a rush of semen followed. Chris had no chance to work with that as Tom was already turning him around and pressed his back against the towel rack. Without much ado, he dropped to his knees in front of Chris and took him in his mouth.

Chris had no qualms about taking him hard this time. He was agitated, aroused, a little angry and frustrated and he needed to fill that man up. He caught their reflection in the mirror and just came; what Tom did to his cock, just swallowing it to the hilt, his lips stretched around the base, was so fucking erotic he could not hold on to himself.

Tom swallowed him to the last drop. His slim hands slid up his legs and felt against his crack, making a dissatisfied sound. He slowly let him go, and then kissed his way up the middle line until they stood chest-on-chest, Tom's eyes blazing with barely contained mirth.

"You're killing me," Chris said. They'd both come, but he still felt unsatisfied.

"I hope not." Tom grabbed a rung and pressed Chris against the contraption, kissing him deeply.

Exhaustion, confusion and arousal had a merry war in Chris' body as he slid his arms around Tom and held him tight while they kissed. He was soon hard again, and so was Tom.

"Go slower this time," he begged against Tom's lips.

"You want to go again?" Tom asked.

Chris nodded.

"Good, because I want to see you dripping with my come, and I haven't filled you up enough yet," Tom murmured.

"Dripping?" Chris wanted to know.

"Hm," Tom hummed as he was kissing his neck. "I want to see it running down your legs."

"How many times do you think it's going to take?" Chris asked, starting to wish Tom was already there.

"As many as it takes," Tom panted. Their amulets met and clicked, and made them both smile.

"Do we need to get it out of our systems?" Chris asked, raising a brow.

"I've been wanting to do this before," Tom confessed. "But you weren't ready."

He turned him around, and this time, he was gentler, more the Tom that he knew. It occurred to Chris that Tom was growing in this relationship both as a man as well as a lover, that they were both moving into new territory as people with and because of each other.

"Take me like you love me," Chris asked.

Tom smiled against his back, and gently kissed his skin. "Are we over it?"

"Over what?"

" _Never doubt that I love_ ," Tom quoted his scroll.

"I doubt it if you hammer me again the way you just did," Chris grumbled good-naturedly. "Give me a moment to enjoy it."

"Get on your knees, then," Tom suggested.

Chris did, and it made a huge difference. They moved as one, Tom unobtrusively sliding atop his crack, and they were kissing, and Tom gently ran his fingertips along Chris' shaft. When Chris was ready, he pressed back against Tom and was gently taken, now open and loose and ready for Tom. He sighed when he was breached, and hid his head in his arms, bent over, the amulet gently clacking against his chin as Tom rocked inside of him. It was comfortable and hypnotic. Chris relaxed into the breach and Tom's strokes became longer and slower, and he kissed his back and caressed him gently. Very gradually, the penetration grew deeper and more profound and Chris found himself hanging on to the towel rack again, feeling safe and secure this time, with Tom taking such good care of him, picking up on his cues of when to take it slower or when he needed more.

The fact that they had both already come made their lovemaking less urgent and Tom took his time, letting him know how appreciated and loved he was. They moved gently, and Chris turned enough in Tom's arms for them to kiss and look at each other, the mirror completely forgotten.

When they finally came, they came together, completely in sync, drinking in each other's gasps, feeling incredibly connected.

"Thank you," Chris whispered against Tom's sweaty temple.

"My pleasure," Tom murmured back. "Literally."

They kissed, smiling.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They ended up on the sofa in their pajamas, doing silly things like feeding each other strawberries covered in hot melted chocolate. Tom felt they had earned it and simply indulged in the sweet kisses and placing a dip of chocolate on the tip of Chris' nose and licking it off, making Chris laugh. Maybe this calm was just temporary, it was hard to say. But right now, it felt right and sweet and well deserved.

"I want to start paying rent," Chris said when all the strawberries and chocolate were used up, and they just lay stretched out against each other in each other's arms.

"Oh?" Tom asked. They both knew that it was no big deal for him to keep both Chris and India for the length of the shoot.

"Uh-huh. I figured if I paid the rent, and you paid the utilities and the food, that would come out about right? For the space used, I mean?"

"Okay." He pushed up Chris' shirt and lay bare a stretch of skin that he started to caress indulgently.

"Just okay?" Chris kissed the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah. It sounds good. And it's fair, considering you two are taking up two thirds of the flat," Tom decided.

"Okay!" Chris beamed. "Cool." He settled against Tom's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his middle.

It was futile to pretend they weren't a couple, Tom had decided. Or that there was actually concern that Chris didn't really want to be with him, but with Elsa, instead. If Chris wanted to pick up the slack around the house, he wouldn't protest. The idea that they would actually go and buy a house together still seemed a bit unreal, but Tom was ready to get used to the idea that they now shared this living space, and thus the bills that came with it.

"I can't bring you tomorrow, but I'll pick you two up," Tom said softly. "I want to go up to Oxford on Friday so I need to stay until 5 on the set and finish up."

"What's going on in Oxford?" Chris asked, looking up at him.

"I'm visiting with Vicky," Tom said. "I can take the day off, so I'm using it."

Chris' brow knit. "I won't be able to come," he said. "I'll be out on location for sure."

"I'll be back home in the evening," Tom soothed.

"Or I could join you when I'm done?" Chris asked hopefully.

"Oh," Tom said. "I hadn't considered that."

"Or would you rather be alone?"

"I'm not sure," Tom said. "I know I need some time with Vicky on my own, but I'm sure it would be fine if you came up and joined us later. I know it wouldn't be a problem for us to stay the night. They have a huge house."

"Your father wanted to know what it's like to have a gay son," Chris said smugly. "Time to find out."

Tom cuffed him gently. "It'll be our third anniversary. Are you sure you want to spend it debating with my father?"

"How could I top tonight?" Chris asked, indulgently stretching up against Tom. "You outdid everything I could ever do."

"You're not stopping though, are you?" Tom asked, genuinely concerned.

Chris laughed. "No." He kissed his nose. "I don't think I ever could."

"What shall we do with your leather bracelet?" Tom asked. "Now that we have these?" He touched the amulet on Chris' chest.

"You could wear it," Chris murmured suggestively in his ear, "when you want to let me know that you'd enjoy me tying your up."

"Oh!" Tom stared at Chris with open admiration. "That's actually really wicked."

"Let's." Chris nuzzled Tom's neck.

"What, right now?" Tom laughed. "Honey, I'm worn out."

"Again?" Chris furrowed his brow and feigned concern.

"You keep me pretty busy," Tom murmured against his lips.

"Likewise." And they kissed anyway, happily getting lost in each other again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris' last counseling session with Elsa takes a surprising turn. Tom is faced with a daunting request.

The atmosphere on the set had notably changed, Chris realized the next morning. He had a very early call so they could get as many scenes in with him as possible before he had to leave for counseling. Kat wasn't present yet, her scenes came later in the day, but he saw the looks that were shot his way, and he was unfortunate enough to overhear a few murmured conversations that may or may not have been held in his earshot on purpose, the general tenor of which was "Couldn't keep it in his pants."

In times like this, he figured wryly, keeping a level head and giving someone the benefit of the doubt, based on your earlier experiences with that person, was not high on the list of human behavior. Paula was once more manhandling him when she strapped him into his armor to the point where he actually had to raise his voice and ask her to go a little gentler. It didn't help that Tom had left a nice little bruise just over his belly button and a faint bite mark on his shoulder blade. He didn't want his lover to rein in his passion, and wore the marks proudly. As soon as he was in full armor, he fished the amulet out of his day clothes and put it back on.

He felt better when Natalie arrived. She treated him the same way she always had, and they bantered and joked while running the day's lines. As soon as she was in the vicinity, the few other people who had opted to stay neutral joined them, and Chris realized he wasn't all alone. The idea that this tiny person was fiercely protecting him with her allegiance was terribly sweet and endearing.

Funny enough, it was the day Jane had to slap him several times when Thor first landed on earth, and she made it good ones, obviously giving the crew an outlet to live vicariously through her. After, she hugged him fiercely, and they both had a good laugh about it. By the time lunch arrived, Chris felt he had his footing back.

And that was a good thing, because Kat arrived and gave him a hard time again. He took it in stride and pretended it was something that was caused by the characters they were both playing. They had one scene together and then he had to leave.

Sitting in the cab, he typed out a short message to Tom.

"On my way to the counseling office now. Miss you. Love, Chris."

To his delight, Tom called him back.

"They're setting up a new shot," he said quietly into his phone. "We have about ten minutes. Make them count."

Chris smiled. "Can't wait to see you."

"Likewise." He could hear the longing in Tom's voice. "What are we doing for dinner tonight?"

"Can we do the domestic and cook, ourselves?" Chris suggested. "I just want to snuggle in with you and India."

"I think that could be arranged," Tom said warmly. "Chicken curry?"

"Anything as long as there's plenty of it, and comes with you," Chris said.

"I can deliver on that," Tom said, amused. "Are you nervous about the counseling today?"

Chris sighed. "I always am," he admitted. "Especially after yesterday." He grimaced.

"Find out what time she wants us to pick up India," Tom reminded him. "If you bring her along to Oxford, we need to pack her things and tell Vicky and my Dad."

The easy way in which Tom included his daughter in their plans still didn't fail to touch Chris. "Will do," he said.

"Honey, I need to go, I'm getting signs they're almost done."

"Okay. Text me when you're there."

"Will do. I love you."

"Love you, too." Chris kept staring longingly at his phone for quite some time after Tom had hung up.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He didn't see Elsa until the session had already started. She came in late, still in her coat and shawl, and shook Dr. Casey's hand. "I'm very sorry I'm so late," she said. "India took a long nap and was very fussy and then my agent called and it all got a little out of hand."

"You're here now, and just two minutes late," Dr. Casey appeased.

"Where did you leave her?" Chris wanted to know.

"With the staff," Dr. Casey explained while Elsa put her coat away. "Elsa called yesterday and arranged it."

"Oh, good." He was so looking forward to seeing his baby again.

He wasn't quite as much looking forward to seeing Elsa, and eyed her carefully as she sat down. She didn't meet his eyes. He thought he knew why.

"So," Dr. Casey opened. "How have you been since the last time?"

Chris waited for Elsa to launch into one of her accusations, but she remained quiet. Dr. Casey picked up on it: "Chris? Do you want to start?"

Chris raised a brow at Elsa, who was still studying her hands. He'd not been the person to set the tone so far, it had always been Elsa. He wondered how much he wanted to say. He wanted to talk about Tom. But he didn't want to do it in front of Elsa. He didn't want his feelings mocked. Chris gave it more thought.

"Coming out of counseling last time was a bit hard, because Elsa came along to the car and made a scene over Tom picking me up," he said quietly. "That was tough."

Still no word from Elsa. He started to worry.

"And we had a little run-in on the set yesterday when she picked up India. I got accused of cheating on her by one of my costars later. Apparently, they had talked."

"It sounds like there's been quite a bit happening while we haven't seen each other," Dr. Casey said. "But how have you been with all that, Chris?"

"I can't keep up," Chris said. "I thought we'd kind of got along... talking with Elsa on..."

"Can you address Elsa?" Dr. Casey said.

"Sure." Chris sighed. "I thought we kind of got along," he said. "Sunday and especially Monday, when you picked up India in day care, were really nice. I don't know... why things suddenly got so hostile again."

"Because you don't love me any more," Elsa said quietly. "Is that so hard to understand."

Chris exchanged a look with Dr. Casey, who nodded at him encouragingly. He didn't know what to say.

"Can you tell us what you mean?" Dr. Casey picked up the slack.

"I don't know what to do any more," Elsa said, her voice sounding hollow. "When I get along with him, he keeps badgering me to do things for Tom. He always leaves for Tom. It's never just him and me."

"Can you tell Chris that?"

She shook her head. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "He's talked to me twice about doing stuff for Tom so he would feel better about caring for India. And then he didn't even respect my wishes not to see them together. He brought Tom here after counseling on Tuesday. I was so upset."

Chris thought her accusations were unfair. "He picked me up because I asked him to," he pointed out. "Outside. You wouldn't have had to see him but you insisted on following me with India."

"How is that making it better?" Elsa asked. "He was still here. This is the only time we still have together, just you and me, and you _had_ to bring him along, didn't you?"

"The first time I left from counseling, Tom and I got into a huge, huge argument," Chris said. "You know why? Because I cared for you too much. Because I wanted to go see you that Sunday and talk to you and see what I could do to make it better."

"Is that supposed to make me like him more?" she asked bitterly. "That he is keeping you from coming to me?"

"I am," Chris enunciated clearly. "In a committed relationship with Tom. I can't be in a relationship with both of you at the same time. He loves me, and I love him, and I need to make it work with him. Don't you understand that? Each time you're doing something like Tuesday night, or yesterday, all that is happening is that I'm concentrating more on Tom to make sure everything is all right with us."

"I can't pretend I'm not upset," Elsa said. "I can't pretend I'm not heartbroken. I can't keep pretending I'm all right with any of this! Or that I don't still love you and want you back!"

Chris was at a complete loss. "It's not possible," he said quietly. "You can't have me back. I've given myself to someone else."

"All I wanted was for you to see me," Elsa cried. "I tried going along but it just hurt too much. So I tried getting your attention by making you miserable, and it's just making you be closer with him."

"It is," Chris said with quiet intensity. "I love him, Elsa, I can't help it."

"And do you still love me?" she asked. Tears were running down her face.

"No," he said compassionately. "I will always love you as India's mother, and hopefully some day, as a good friend. I will always treasure the time we had together. But I don't love you that way any more."

"Then just go to hell!" She buried her face in her hands and cried bitterly.

Chris didn't know what to do. He wanted to get out of the situation, out of having to witness Elsa breaking down. It felt like he was intruding on something very private, something he wasn't supposed to be privy to. They didn't have that relationship any more, and he didn't want it back. He straightened and felt his amulet settle back on his chest and touched it through the fabric of his jumper. _God bless you, Tom,_ he thought thankfully. It felt as if Tom was right here with him. He allowed his lover's level-headed compassion to make an impression on him. _What would you do in my place?_

It was so apparent that Tom had been right with his assessment of the situation, with telling him that if he wasn't clear with Elsa, he would get Elsa's hopes up, and things would go on and on, a horrid tale with no end. He didn't enjoy hurting her, but his choice was so doubtlessly clear now. He wanted Tom. And now he had the proof, the manifestation of Tom's commitment to him, hanging around his neck. It grounded him, gave him something to hold on to. _Never doubt that I love._ Even when things are tough. Even when we're both confused. Even when the path is unclear. _Never doubt that I love._ The full meaning of those few words kept unfolding on Chris in new, surprising ways.

He didn't mind that Dr. Casey concentrated on Elsa now, told her how important it was to acknowledge the true depth of her pain, and what progress it was that she could do it in front of Chris. He watched the scene as if it happened to someone else, as if he wasn't the cause, and wasn't involved. He couldn't shoulder this for the rest of his life, could not live every single day in misery. He'd done what he could. It still hurt. That was the simple truth of it. And it would continue to hurt until it didn't, but that didn't change how he felt, and that he was _so sure_ that it was the right step for him, and for Tom, as well.

There was nothing he could offer Elsa as long as she was still trying to get back together with him.

"What can I do?" he heard himself address Dr. Casey.

"Just stick it out," she said quietly. "Witness it and don't walk away."

So he stayed, and bore it.

In hindsight, it was a lot like child birth. Elsa ranted and cried, the whole extent of her pain and loss spilling out of her like a waterfall. She told him she loved him and wanted him back, and the next moment she told him to fuck off and never come into her sight again. She told him how much she missed him and how much he meant to her, and that she couldn't live without him and had no idea how to go on without him. Then she told him that he was a liar and a cheat and that she was happy to be rid of him.Bone-deep sorrow was followed by pride and accusations, again followed by bone-deep sorrow, like tidal waves that washed up on a rocky shore, until Elsa was spent. Her sobs became fewer, the tears stopped coming.Trembling, she thankfully accepted the glass of water Dr. Casey handed her.

She blew her nose a last time and then got up to wash her hands and face. When she came back from the bathroom, she seemed more composed.

"I don't want India to see me like that," she said to Chris with a trembling voice. "Can you just pick her up later?"

"Yeah," he said softly. He felt like he was treading on eggshells now. He didn't want to be the reason that Elsa got upset again, but he knew the wrong word from him could trigger another storm. And he still had in mind the plans Tom and he had made for Friday and Saturday. It was so tempting to just offer her that she could do what she wanted, and he would go along with it. But he couldn't. His responsibilities were now elsewhere.

Elsa wrung her hands, and looked at her fingernails. "So it's really over, isn't it?"

"Yes." And for the first time during this session, he felt that it touched him.

"Okay." She drew a shuddering breath. "Chris, I... I'm not going to want to see you for a while."

"Yeah." He felt sorry about that. "How... how do you want to handle India?" he asked.

"Write me mails," Elsa said. "I know she's in good hands with you."

"Pictures?"

"Keep them," Elsa said. "Take pictures and keep them so I can look at them when I'm back. It's going to be too hard otherwise."

She would miss so much. He vowed to document every one of India's movements so she could catch up when she was ready to. "Okay."

"I... I would like to keep in counseling," Elsa turned to Dr. Casey. "But without Chris for a while."

He wasn't even asked. "What if I don't want that?" he asked obstinately.

Elsa shrugged. "I can't help it. I have nothing left," she said. "And I need help and it's not coming from you."

No. It wasn't. She was right. But the loss hit him like a brick that moment. That she should just disappear from his life like that, should not be reachable any more, at least for while, was nothing he had expected to happen after she'd been so adamant about him having to be accountable, and around for her to rant at. He nearly said, _I'll miss you_. It would be the truth. But nothing that would help the situation.

"I.. um..." She swallowed. "I don't know what to do about India," she said. "I'm not sure... I don't know how to say goodbye."

It was Elsa's session. There was nothing he could do, no way he could help. She was working her way through every excruciating detail of the end of her marriage today.

"I don't want India to be sad," Elsa said. "But if I see you or Tom again before I leave, I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"I don't know how to help," he said.

"I'm wondering... thinking..." The tears were back in her eyes. "If you could just... take her tonight and... and that's it."

"Of course I can," he said desperately. "But you could still have her for a day and a half. Don't cut your time with her short because of this."

"I love her so much," she cried. "I don't want her to see me fall apart."

"It's your choice," he soothed. "You can pick her up the set tomorrow morning and you don't even have to see me."

"And then spend the day with her knowing it's the last for a long time?" Elsa shook her head.

"If you leave now without saying goodbye to her, that could follow your for the whole six weeks you're away," Dr. Casey said. "Maybe your friend could bring India to Chris and Tom?"

"I..." Elsa sniffed. "I have a 4pm flight on Saturday. You..." she looked at Chris. "You wanted to have her before noon, right?"

"We're going up to Oxford tomorrow evening," Chris said, seeing her wince, but he couldn't help it. "I can either take India with me, that would be around four or five tomorrow. Or we find some way we can pick her up before you leave for the airport."

"I can't decide," Elsa said.

Chris made a quick decision that he hoped Tom would support. "Then just tell me tomorrow, okay? Sleep over it. See how you feel tomorrow."

"O..." She hiccuped. "Okay." And then: "Thank you."

He didn't think he deserved it. "You have no reason to thank me for anything," he said. "I have done nothing but hurt you these past three weeks. And you don't have to say anything right now, either. I... I hope your stay in Romania brings you the answers you're looking for. I promise... _promise_ I'll take good care of India until you're back. You do what you need to do. We... she's going to be there when you come back, I promise."

"Okay." Elsa stared at the carpet for a moment and then shook her head. "I want to go home."

There was still over half an hour left of their session. Chris looked at Dr. Casey.

"I've had enough for today," Elsa said. "I'm sorry, Dr. Casey. Can I call your office for a new appointment tomorrow? I just want to go home and sleep."

Dr. Casey looked at her with narrowed eyes. She then looked at Chris. "Will you wait here for me? I'll help Elsa out and then I'll be right back."

"Sure." He wasn't sure. He felt like his whole being was shaken with what he had just witnessed, and he didn't want Elsa to leave. He was torn between wanting to hug her and tell her everything would be okay, and knowing that that was probably the least helpful thing he could do. "Please take care of yourself."

Elsa gave him a weak smile. "Goodbye."

He saw her walking out with Dr. Casey, who gave him an encouraging nod on her way out.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom was actually a little later than he would have liked to when he finally hopped into his car and left the lot. He hooked his smart phone to the speaker system and dealt with a number of calls and messages that had been left during the day as he took the motorway down towards the counseling office. He'd just fielded a request by the BFI committee when his phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hi honey," Tom said. "I'm on my way to you."

"How far out are you?" Chris asked, sounding a little strange.

"About ten minutes," Tom said. "Sorry, I got out a little late."

"Tom." There was a moment of static that obscured his voice. "… to stay?"

"Can you repeat that, Chris? You broke up for a moment."

"Would you mind coming up when you're here?"

"What about Elsa?"

"She left early," Chris said, and he didn't sound good.

"Did it not go well?"

"No." Chris' voice flagged. "Not at all."

"What about India?" She was Tom's first concern.

"India is fine, but... please... Dr. Casey is staying longer for me, I'm... I'm not good."

"Chris, I'll be right there," Tom soothed. "I'm coming up to get you. Don't go anywhere."

"Okay." Chris' voice broke.

"Chris, is India right there with you?" Tom asked, now really concerned.

"No," Chris said.

"Do you want to go get her?"

"I'm still in Dr. Casey's office," Chris explained.

"Go get your little girl. She'll make you smile," Tom said. "Honey, I'll be right there, I promise I'll hurry."

"Okay."

"Do you want me to stay on?" Tom asked.

"No." Chris sniffed. "Don't want you to have an accident on my account. Sorry I'm falling apart like this."

"Nothing to feel sorry for," Tom soothed.

"I love you."

"Love you, too." Tom wondered what Dr. Casey was thinking about the bits and pieces that she could overhear.

"I'll be in good hands until you're here," Chris said. "I see you in a moment."

"Okay."

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Tom arrived at the building, it was obvious that general hours were drawing to an end. The lift was full of tired office workers on their way out. The hallway that the counseling office was part of was already dark on the far ends. Tom pushed through the clearly marked practice door, which was still brightly lit.

A young woman in smart clothing greeted him. "Are you Tom Hiddleston?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Dr. Casey is already waiting. If you would follow me?"

It was ten to six; he was early. He'd counted on being able to calm down and listen to music a moment before the evening would continue with India and the counseling aftermath. Now he was here. Nothing he had counted on happening at all. Tom ran a hand through his hair and followed the receptionist.

She opened the door to a tastefully furnished room with a big white sofa, on which Chris sat, and a woman in her forties in a chair opposite him. They both looked up when the receptionist announced him, and she beckoned him inside, then left.

"Tom Hiddleston," Tom introduced himself to the counselor.

"Dr. Casey, nice to meet you." Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. He decided he liked her. But his main concern was Chris, of course.

"Are we.. ready to leave?" he asked him. "Are you?"

Chris shook his head and patted the space beside him. "It's good to see you."

"What's going on?" Tom sat down. "Where's India?"

"My assistant is looking after her," Dr. Casey said. "There's no hurry, they seem to get along just fine."

Tom shook his head, still not knowing what was going on.

"Tom..." Chris took his hand. "I asked Dr. Casey if she could stay for a moment longer because a lot of stuff came up today – and I don't want to take it home with us. We're kind of..." He exchanged a look with Dr. Casey, "…kind of at a cross roads and I want you on board with what's going to happen next."

Tom's eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

"But we can also leave, or you can just wait outside if you want to."

"What happened?"

"Elsa..." Chris shook his head. "I think she realized I'm really not coming back. She... she didn't take it well. It was really hard." He swallowed. "She left early and she's decided not to continue couples counseling for now."

"And India?"

Chris pressed his hand. "We're still to take her," he said, searching Tom's eyes. "But she hasn't decided yet if she wants to see her again before she leaves."

"But she's still got a whole day with her," Tom said, shocked. "So it's... it's really bad."

"Yeah."

"Chris asked if you could come to the session because I might end working with him soon," Dr. Casey said. "Elsa has asked to go into one-on-one counseling for a while. I can't work with both of them at the same time. It's not good practice. The idea of favoritism to one of the parties involved is always in the room."

"And I think Elsa needs her more than I do at the moment," Chris said. "At least I've got you. She's got no one else."

Elsa had family and friends. But this was Chris' decision. "Okay," Tom said.

"But I want to keep going," Chris said, looking at him. "For me."

That look gave Tom shivers. It was a private look, a look that was usually reserved for just the two of them. He felt uncomfortable sharing it with anyone, sharing it with Dr. Casey.

"And we've talked about counseling before, and I don't know... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about me going," Chris said wistfully. "Is it too much?"

"And we're supposed to discuss this here?" Tom asked. "Chris, it's not my decision. If you feel you want to keep going, then that's what you have to do! I'm not in your shoes, I can only make these decisions for myself." He shook his head.

Chris studied him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I misjudged the situation."

"Can I interrupt?" Dr. Casey said. "Chris wanted you to hear what resources are on offer for a male couple out there..."

"You mean we can't use normal counseling services?" Tom asked, furrowing his brow.

"Of course! That's not what I meant at all," she said. "But I know of a few colleagues who are gay, or have extensive experience with gay clients and..."

"And because we're not normal people, this is what we should do," Tom said dryly. "I get it."

Dr. Casey sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, giving him a curious look.

"A few weeks ago, neither one of us knew that we would fall in love with each other," Tom said. "And we've been exclusively in relationships with women before. Is there a special counseling service for that? Or is there one for highly visible actors who should not be caught because it would be a big scandal? Or exclusively for men who fell in love with their best friends?"

"Do you feel there should be?"

Tom laughed. It didn't sound very cheerful. He realized that Chris was really tense beside him. He didn't mean to hurt him, and didn't mean to mock his need to stay in counseling. But he felt incredibly uncomfortable about sharing all the worries and thoughts he had on the matter in front of Dr. Casey.

"I've never found a counseling service that was actually made to counsel _me_ ," he said. "But if Chris feels comfortable with you, I think it's a shame that he needs to leave, because good counselors are hard to come by. I don't know why you can't keep counseling both of them, if there is a chance they want to come back to couples counseling at some point?"

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I'm not your client," Tom said, friendly but firmly. "My feelings are my own."

She seemed to like his friendly resolve. "Of course," she said. "My apologies."

"Can you still... let me know?" Chris asked. "I would have to start making inquiries."

"Can he stay in the practice?" Tom asked.

"Yes." Dr. Casey nodded. "I would have to inquire with my colleagues who will be free to take Chris on, but of course that's a possibility."

Tom turned around to Chris. "Would that be okay for you?"

"There's a group out there for gay Dads," Chris said imploringly. "I thought that was interesting...?"

Tom tried to read his lover's expression, tried to find out what he wanted, without having to expressly ask him what it was, in front of Dr. Casey.

"Do we want to take the information with us and discuss it at home?" Tom asked.

"Today was really hard," Chris said. "I don't want to leave before I don't know what's going to happen next."

"Okay." Tom nodded. "But this is still your and Elsa's counseling...?"

"Please?" Chris asked. "Just stay here with me."

It was so hard to relax. This situation brought up so many memories, so many things he had forgotten. Tom didn't think he'd be helpful in any way, that his memories were helpful in any way, and he couldn't make himself show Chris the support and affection he usually would if they were alone with each other while Dr. Casey's eyes were on him.

"You're helping," Chris said. "You're asking questions I wouldn't have thought of."

Tom nodded. "I can do that."

Chris smiled at him. "Okay. Cool." Tom could see that he would've liked to kiss him but was glad that he didn't try. "Okay, then..." He rubbed his hand on his jeans and turned to Dr. Casey. "I would really like to keep you as a counselor for both Elsa and I," he said. "Because I feel very comfortable with the way you worked with both of us."

"Thank you, I'm glad."

"But if Elsa keeps you for one-on-one, we would have to take on a new couples counselor?"

"Right now we have no idea how things will develop," Dr. Casey said. "But yes. You'd each have someone who would work with you individually, and a couples counselor to work with you both."

"I wouldn't mind if you were both," Chris said.

"Not a good idea," Tom said. "You're too generous for your own good."

"Tom, she needs her more."

"Really?" Tom asked. "You're struggling with _everything_ when it comes to Elsa. What consequences leaving her and breaking up your marriage has for you as a man, and as a husband. As someone who can make vows and keep them. _I_ have a vested interest in you finding out where you stand about these things. Elsa is out finding herself. You should, too. And you should work with someone who isn't biased, and can afford to see only your side of things. One-on-one therapy is about you, just you. And between Elsa and me, I think you really need someone who is there just for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I have my own demons to fight with, and often enough, they keep me from supporting you the way I would like to. I love you and do what I can to make you happy..."

"You really do," Chris said.

Tom raised an amused brow at him. "Anyway, I know my stuff interferes with yours from time to time. I want you to have someone just for you, no holds barred. Figure out what _you_ want, what _you_ need," Tom said. "Just you."

"I would like to have a counselor who knows what it's like to be with a man," Chris said, his eyes steady on Tom's. "Because that's where my life is going, and I want it to go there. And if that man's also a Dad, that would be even better. I know what it's been like to be a straight husband and father but that's not me any more. And I don't want to have to explain... everything. I just want some common ground and go from there."

If Chris had painted "I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT, AND YOU ARE MY FUTURE" in fluorescent paint on the walls, he couldn't have been more clear.

It actually made Tom smile. "Okay."

"Is there someone in this practice who would fit that description?" Chris asked Dr. Casey.

She seemed inherently amused by their exchange. "No," she admitted. "But I'm happy to make inquiries at a close colleague's practice. Would it be okay for him to call you?"

Chris nodded. "Yes."

"Do you work together?" Tom wanted to know.

"No, but we are in the same supervision group," Dr. Casey said. "So I am familiar with his practice and I think it would be a good fit."

"So there wouldn't be a problem with Chris coming back here for couples counseling?"

"Not at all."

Tom looked at Chris. "Do you want to do that?"

"I'd like to meet him," Chris said.

"I'll set it up." Dr. Casey made some notes on her board.

"Is there a chance Chris could come back for a last session with you?" Tom asked. "To wrap things up, as it were? Get some closure on this?"

Chris looked at him admiringly. "I didn't think of that."

Dr. Casey nodded. "Yes, we can do that. However, it's only going to be a 45 min session. That's the normal time for one-on-one counseling."

"I think that should be fine," Chris said. "Should we find a time now?" He pulled out his phone.

They swapped schedules and Chris confirmed for the following Wednesday. "I want to give production a heads up," he explained. "Three days to plan should be okay."

Tom could see that Chris had visibly relaxed, now that the coming week wasn't without support for him. He'd see Dr. Casey and possibly have a first talk with a new counselor.

"So what is that about this gay Dads thing?" he asked, faking disgruntlement.

It turned out there was a group in the greater London area of gay parents and their children that met from time to time to talk and have their children play together. Of course it would always be an anonymity issue, but Chris was really interested. "It would be nice to find kids for India to grow up with that are in a similar position," Chris said.

"There are also legal questions about the situation that may come up as time goes on," Dr. Casey said. "I'm sure that group is a good source of information about that."

"What kinds of legal situations?" Tom asked.

"Questions of custody and guardianship for India, for example," Dr. Casey said. "I'm sure that still all sounds very far away still..."

Tom didn't say anything, it was too personal, but he listened very carefully. Would guardianship be a possibility for him and India? He was intrigued.

"… but just to be on the safe side while India is living with you two, you might think about some sort of legal arrangement for Tom, to make it legal for him to sign India into a hospital, for example, should something happen while you're not there, Chris. Have it in writing that he is authorized to act _in loco parentis_."

Chris blinked. Looked at Tom. Blinked again. "We are getting that sorted," he said. "STAT."

"Maybe even before Elsa leaves," Dr. Casey nodded. "I'm not sure on these things, they don't occur in my practice very often, but it may be necessary that both parents sign."

"She'll sign," Chris said. "I'm sure of it. India is her treasure and she wouldn't do anything to endanger her. I'll drop a note to my lawyer after we leave and talk to him tomorrow morning."

Tom found himself drawing a deep breath, a breath of excitement. In this surrounding, where he had least expected it, where Chris had asked him to be because he was in distress, suddenly there was this ray of sunshine, this ray of hope. If he had nothing else, at least he'd have, in writing, that both Elsa and Chris trusted him with India's life, and thought he was responsible and mature enough to take care of her. To make decisions on their behalf that might change, protect or even safe India's life.

"What do you think, Tom?" Dr. Casey asked him. "Do you want that?"

And he couldn't fucking keep the beaming smile off his face, it just broke through whatever protective mask he had put on before he stepped into the practice. 

"Yes," he simply said. "That would be fine with me."


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time for Tom, Chris and India.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of tags onto the previous one, so it's not very long but very sweet. Hope you enjoy! :)

It was with such a light heart that Tom watched Chris pick up his daughter later. Chris threw her in the air and twirled her around until she was breathless with squealing. Father and daughter had a lot to tell each other, and Tom just sat and watched with a big, indulgent smile on his face.

"You okay?" Chris asked him when he looked up while putting India's coat on.

"Yeah." Tom put the car key that he had had in his hand back into the coat pocket. He kneeled in front of father and daughter and helped put India's booties on. "There you go, India," he said. "Warm toes."

She smiled as she kicked her feet at him and pointed. "Da!" Then turned around to Chris. "Da!"

"I know! It's Tom, isn't it?" He zipped her up and put her cap on, which she summarily pulled off again.

"India..." He growled. "Leave it on."

"Try it in the lobby, it's cooler there," Tom said. "She might be too hot up here."

They left the practice with Chris carrying India, and Tom carrying the nappy bag.

Chris used the privacy of the lift to lean over and kiss Tom. It made India giggle, so they did it again. This time, India leaned in and made smacking noises with her mouth.

"Kisses all around?" Tom asked, amazed that she remembered the previous time they'd done it. "Here you go." He kissed her soft cheek. "And now your Daddy, India."

But instead of Chris, India painfully head bumped into Tom and tried to kiss him. She didn't quite hit his cheek – he had angled his head wrong, not expecting it – and made a dissatisfied noise, bouncing on Chris' arm.

Tom blinked.

Chris laughed. "Do it again, mate," he said good-naturedly. "Or she's going to be crabby the whole night."

Tom kissed India's cheek and held out his own. He was rewarded with another head bump and a wet blob on his cheek.

India bashfully hugged herself to Chris' massive chest as he laughed. Her eyes peered at Tom and his reaction, though.

Tom was speechless.

"She's not going to leave you alone now," Chris predicted.

And he proved to be right. On the whole way home, ruling the car from the back seat, she threw her favorite bunny at them, and it was only good when Tom would pick it up and hand it back to her. He couldn't look at her directly, but saw her plotting and thinking in the baby seat in the rear view mirror, and definitely aiming the bunny in his direction.

Coming home, she'd be happy to be on Chris' arm, but she kept looking for Tom, and when he disappeared into the kitchen to start their dinner, she strained and whined until Chris followed.

"Sorry, Tom," he said with barely contained mirth. "I'll probably have to change her in the kitchen. You're too fascinating to miss." He walked over and kissed him. "A sentiment I happen to share."

India made her smacking noises again and would not stop until she had kissed Tom once more. Again, she would hide against Chris, who laughed and hugged her. "She's going to be too shy for you to hold her," he said. "Wait until she wants to be on your arm."

"Okay." Tom couldn't believe his luck. 

"Okay, baby girl, we're going to have to leave your new boyfriend for just a minute," Chris said, winking at Tom. "I promise we'll be back."

Tom heard India protesting all the way up to her nursery.

When they came into the kitchen again, father and daughter were in more comfortable clothes, and Chris carried her on his back in a baby sling.

"You are kidding me," Tom said, pausing his chopping. "This is too adorable for words."

"Free hands!" Chris said, and put them right to good use, slinging them around Tom, nuzzling against his neck.

"I'm cooking," Tom protested half-heartedly.

"We're helping."

"Uh-huh." He was still too shy to kiss Chris fully with India around, but he realized quickly that he didn't get around some affectionate nuzzling and a teasing nip at his earlobe. "Hey."

Chris winked at him. "How can we help?" he asked.

Tom put some music on and they chopped companionably side by side, singing along and sneaking tidbits from one another. When the curry was cooking and the rice was steaming, Tom put on a pot of tea and Chris heated some baby food for India.

When the meal was ready, India was presented with some rice to mess with, and Chris fed her the baby food when she did her sparrow impression. Tom opened a bottle of white wine for them to enjoy with the curry. He felt his nerves settle, felt how he began to be in the moment. This was how it would be for the next six weeks, him, Chris, and India.

"What are you thinking?"

"Stupid things," Tom said, raising his glass at him.

"Uh-huh." Chris raised his eyebrow, letting him know that he'd be questioned later. "I was thinking," he said as he fed India another spoonful. "You said we could stay at your Dad's house tomorrow night."

"Yeah."

"Would you mind terribly if we didn't?" Chris asked.

"You want to go back home?" Tom asked. "It takes you a good one and a half hour to come up there. I was actually thinking maybe I just come back early and we spend the night here."

Chris frowned. "You don't want me there?"

"No..." Tom pushed the food around his plate. "If I come home, it's one and a half hour more that we can spend together instead of apart."

"Tom..." Chris' look told him that if India wasn't there, he'd be tackled and kissed to within an inch of his life right now. "I'll get us a hotel room for the night. We'll have proper dinner with your parents and then I'm going to love you for the rest of the night."

"You'll be exhausted after a long day on the set."

"I'll sleep in the car on the way up." Chris batted his eyelashes at him. "Pleeeeeaaaaase?"

Tom couldn't help but laugh.

"Sleeping in in the morning," Chris painted their day."I'll make love to you as we wake up, we order a proper English on room service, I'll make love to you again..."

"Your daughter is sitting at the table," Tom couldn't help but point out.

"Making love is a good thing," Chris explained seriously to the daughter in question. "It makes people who love each other very happy."

Tom couldn't argue with that. "You'll have to pack tonight," Tom suggested.

"We're going, then?" Chris brightened.

"We're going." Tom sighed. "Like I could say no to you."

  
  


* * *

  
  


After dinner, Chris and India took care of the dishes while Tom used the moment to slip into more comfortable clothes. He felt so happy that it took his breath away a little, and chose not to examine the feeling, or where it came from, too closely, lest it would just disappear. When he came to the living room, Chris and India were on India's play rug, Chris on his belly, looking at a book. They both looked up when they saw him come in, and Chris said: "Come join us!"

With Chris sprawled out on it, space was at a premium on the rug, and Tom felt famished for body contact. His sense of propriety had a quick hand-to-hand with his need to feel Chris against him. He ended up lying down on Chris' back, his ear between his shoulder blades, arms wrapped tightly around his chest.

"Are you comfortable?" Chris asked, and he sounded so tender.

"Uh-huh."

"Tired?"

"Yeah." Tom yawned. "Can you read to us?"

"Sure." Chris reached for Tom's hand and tucked it under his chin, kissing Tom's palm.

Tom snuggled in, inhaling his lover's scent deeply and letting Chris' body heat seep through his clothes. He closed his eyes, his other hand resting on India's back as Chris narrated the book for them, and then two others. He was almost asleep when Chris jostled him gently.

"Honey, I need to sit up."

"No..." he mumbled.

"Do you want to lie on the sofa and take a nap?" Chris asked.

"No, I want to be with you." Tom's arms tightened around Chris.

"Okay, let me turn around," Chris requested.

Grudgingly, Tom pushed up, and Chris got on his back under him. As soon as Tom had settled, he wrapped his arms tightly around him, and his legs as well. "Better?" he murmured in his ear.

"Hm, tighter." Tom melted into the embrace and enjoyed Chris' limbs wrapping around him like vices. "I've missed you."

"Missed you, too, love." Chris started to rub his back vigorously. 

Tom pushed his body into the caress like a cat. He realized he was as randy as a tom, as well, and that this kind of cuddling was not quite what his body had in mind.

Chris squeezed him. "I love you so much."

"Love you more." They rubbed noses and smiled.

Beside them, India made herself known, plucking at Tom's sleeve. "Hey little girl," he said. "Sorry I'm hogging your dad, but I really needed some cuddles." He stroked over her hair and kissed her forehead.

She looked at him, a little perplexed, and then at Chris, as if to ask: "Can he just do that?"

"Want to cuddle, too, India?" Chris asked. "Let's make a cuddle pile."

Tom was game, as long as it meant keeping body contact with Chris. It was frightening how soon he'd become dependent on having him close, and getting his solid dose of Chris every day. Again, he chose not to think about what that meant, and if it was appropriate to do in front of India. He just let his need guide him, and his need for Chris was potent tonight, to just be with and around him, feeling him close.

They arranged their bodies so Tom was tightly wrapped around his right side, his head on Chris' shoulder. Chris scooped India up to lie on his belly, and both he and Tom cradled India with their arms. She snuggled in as Chris gently stroked her back, and kept looking at Tom.

"See?" Chris said, his voice choking. "Plenty of love to go around for everyone."

Tom didn't have to look up to know that his lover had tears in his eyes. He gently ran his forefinger along the shell of India's little ear and felt the love he had for her bloom in his chest like a flower. She allowed the touch at first but then made a grab for his hand. He let her have it and she just settled her hand on top of his, then peered upwards at her dad, again as if to check what he was thinking.

"Do you like Tom, honey?" Chris asked. "That's good, Daddy likes Tom, too."

India looked at Tom again and then reached out for his face. "Da!"

Tom brought his head a little closer, resting it on Chris' chest and closing his eyes. Not too much later, he felt India's hand on his cheek, softly touching him.

"That's right, India, go gently," Chris coached her quietly.

Tom hardly dared to breathe.

"Da!" India made again. "Da!"

Then they all quieted down, India's hand again on top of Tom's, and Chris rubbing both Tom's back as well as India's, and then squeezing both of them close.

It was a timeless moment. Tom let it flow through him with every breath, being present with it. How solid and loving Chris felt. The sound of India's breath and the fragility of her touch. He knew it would be gone in a moment, as soon as one of them stirred, but neither one of them did for quite some time, as if they were all in need of this well of complete stillness and closeness with each other, knowing someone else was there with them, that they weren't alone.

For a moment, for just this moment, he allowed himself to believe that this would be here to stay. That Chris wouldn't leave him, and that India would come back to them. That this was a place he could return to when he felt lost and lonely. That he wouldn't have to be so afraid any more that it would all be gone in a heartbeat, that the security he felt now was nothing else but a trap door that would open under his feet any minute, as it had so often before. He could dare to trust in this. He didn't have to be on guard all the time any more.

Chris' caresses along his back grew more gentle, and Tom knew he felt it, too.

At some point, India stirred, and when Tom looked up, he could see the traces that Chris' tears had left on his face, even while he smiled at Tom.

"Yeah, me, too," Tom said, pushing up to kiss him.

"Love you so much," Chris murmured against his lips. "Ugh, I feel all soggy now."

"Yeah." Tom wiped his lover's tears away. "I know what you mean."

They smiled at each other.

India made her smacking noises, and they both laughed.

"We're so corrupting her," Tom predicted.

"There's nothing wrong with kissing," Chris defended his parenting. "Right, India?"

India smacked her lips again. Chris sat up with both of them and settled India on his thigh. When he presented his cheek to be kissed, she pushed him away, making both of them laugh. She then peered shyly at Tom.

"Come here then, little girl." Tom said, settling her on his own knee, and raising it so she could reach him. "Chris?"

Again, he kissed first Chris, and then had India kiss his cheek, and Chris kissed hers and rubbed his fuzzy beard against it, which made her giggle. Then Tom started bopping her on his knee and singing an old nursery rhyme to her, which she loved. She kept looking to see if Chris saw what she was doing, and he was cheering her on. After five minutes of fun on Tom's knee, she strained to be back with her father, and he lovingly cradled her against his chest. "I think someone's getting a bit tired," he predicted.

"Well, it's after eight." Tom yawned. "I'm getting a bit tired." He stretched and found Chris watching him carefully. "What do you think," he suggested. "I'm going to grab my notebook and answer a few mails, and you two have some father-daughter-time?"

"Okay," Chris agreed to Tom's pleasure. "Will you help me put her to bed later?"

"Sure," he said lightly."Madame." He kissed India's little hand. "I will see you at your leisure." He winked at Chris and got up.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"What do you think we'll need?"

India was in bed, the chimes of her musical box clearly audible through the baby phone, and the two tired men had congregated in the bedroom to discuss their trip to Oxford.

"Pajamas..." Tom suggested.

"Pffft," made Chris. "I'm going to be either naked in bed with you, or naked in the shower with you, so..."

"Interesting." Tom grinned.

"Could I throw my stuff in with your suitcase?" Chris asked.

They looked at each other. Tom found himself wanting to say yes.

Then Chris grimaced. "I just thought, if we checked in with just one suitcase, if anyone saw us, hard to explain why there's just one."

"Yeah." Tom deflated somewhat. "You're right."

Chris sat down with him on the bed. He gave him a smile and let his eyes rove across his face, then very gently cupped his jaw and kissed him.

Tom's toes curled and he gasped for air, Chris' mobile lips across his own incredibly arousing. It didn't get better when Chris added his tongue asking for entrance, which Tom quickly gave. Chris tasted so damn good, and he was such a good kisser, hmmm... Tom easily got lost in the kiss, in finally having Chris at his disposal, in finally being able to express himself that way. Within a moment, he sat in Chris' lap, their growing erections in tight contact, both of them gasping, and Chris' hands under Tom's shirt, caressing him.

"How desperate are we?" Chris whispered. "Can we wait?"

Tom shook his head quickly, eager to be in close contact with his lover.

The edges of Chris' mouth curled upwards and he pushed at Tom's pajama bottoms.

Tom got up quickly and out of his garments in no time at all. Chris wasn't a slouch either. Within five seconds, they were on the bed, flush against each other, kissing, and Chris pumped both their cocks in his hand. It was so simple and so damn needed. Tom gasped and moaned, Chris nibbling along the column of his neck, making the sparks fly. He groaned, stretching into the caress, moving into Chris' fist, completely abandoning any semblance of control.

"God, you're beautiful," Chris murmured appreciatively. "Absolutely gorgeous." He rolled Tom onto his back and quickly coated the inside of his thighs with the pre-come he had gathered, then got on top, pushing his cock between them.

"Come on me," Tom moaned. "Hmm, take me hard."

He should be intimidated with that hunk of a man crouched over him, but he wasn't. His fingertips appreciatively traced Chris' bulging, working muscles as he moved into him. He closed his eyes and arched into his body, daring him to go for it, Chris' swinging amulet clicking with his own as he moved. It made them smile, and Chris reached down to cup his ass and move with short, powerful thrusts into Tom.

It didn't take long, it didn't have to. Chris pulled out and joined their cocks once more, rubbing them in his hand until they both came. He was crouched over Tom, his hair falling around their faces, both of them breathing heavily and grinning wildly as they kissed..

"So in love with you," Chris whispered joyfully against his skin. "So damn in love with you."

"We just had two-minute-sex," Tom said fondly, burying his hands in Chris' hair. "Still in love?"

"Always."

"I love you, too." Tom's chest rose against Chris' as he took a deep breath and he laughed. "And I feel so damn lucky."

"What is it with today?" Chris asked, his eyes brimming with tears again. He sniffed, and smiled at him at the same time.

"What is it with today?" Tom repeated the question softly, wiping at Chris' tears with his thumbs. "Hm?"

Chris caught his hand in his own and kissed his palm. His eyes were filled with overwhelming affection.

"Do you want to talk?" Tom asked softly.

Chris shook his head. "I'm just incredibly happy," he simply said. "I have no words."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's drive to Oxford doesn't go as expected.

The day started early. Tom wanted to be up with Chris and India, and when they left the house at 6, he stretched and yawned and scratched his belly, very tempted to go back to bed. But he'd promised to pack for both of them, since they had of course been preoccupied with completely different things than packing last night. They'd fallen asleep at ten thirty, too, how shameful.

It was like a huge weight had been lifted off their lives, and that urge to squeeze every moment out of their limited time together had segued into the joyful delight of knowing they would see each other the next day, and the day after that, and the next day after that. Just being together, they spent their night holding each other, and whenever one of them would wake, there would just be soft touches or kisses, quiet, intimate whispers, and rearranging their bodies into some new form of wrapping, stacking or spooning that meant they were as close as humanly possible.

Tom decided to use the early, free morning for a run.

When he came back, he took a refreshing shower, cleaned up after them and got himself another cup of coffee and a scone, then got into the packing: A sports bag and garment bag for Chris, who only had those huge trunk-like suitcases with him in England, and a carry-on trolley for himself. Tom went upstairs and packed India's sleeping bag, a few nappies and wipes, and some clothes from her dresser, marveling at how incredibly tiny everything was. Chris had had no word back from Elsa yet, so it was still open whether he might bring India along to Oxford. Better be prepared.

At ten, he got a call from Chris.

"Elsa has just picked up India," he said.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No. Miss Rose let me know that she's been there."

"The note from your lawyer?"

"He'll have it delivered before noon," Chris said. "I left a note of explanation for Elsa with Miss Rose, and she's taken it along. I hope she's reading it."

"Yeah. Me, too."

"Booked the hotel yet?"

"No, I was waiting for your call," Tom said.

"I really should do it."

"Honey, I know Oxford like the back of my hand," Tom said, who had grown up there. "And you're busy. I don't mind."

"But it means you'll have done everything this week, and I haven't done anything for us," Chris complained.

"You came up with the idea?" Tom smiled.

Chris harrumphed.

"So... you can do things for me, but I can't do things for you...?" Tom teased.

Chris grew quiet. "You're pretty good at this romancing stuff," he had to admit.

Tom laughed quietly. "I love you," he said. "Honey, it's going to be a tough day for me, so I'll be very happy just being with you."

"I'll be there." Chris' voice was very gentle.

"You can be my knight in shining armor with my Dad," Tom suggested.

Chris laughed. "I can do that. Did you pack my white suit, then?"

"I can't believe I'm packing your things," Tom grumbled good-naturedly. "No, I packed the dove blue one with your striped tie and a light blue dress shirt, if that is okay."

"Do you like me in that?" Chris asked in a voice that went right to Tom's groin.

"Yes." Tom admitted. "I like peeling you out of it even more."

"Oohhh, a challenge," Chris purred. "Don't forget our supplies, then."

"What do you want me to pack?" Tom asked eagerly.

"Everything," Chris whispered. "I want to use everything once."

"Your supplies in the guest bathroom?"

"Do you want me to use them?"

Tom smiled. "Better be prepared."

Chris grew quiet. "I love you so damn much," he said. "I need to go now but I'll be thinking of you, okay? If there's trouble, don't hesitate to call or text."

"Will do," Tom said. "I'll text you the hotel's address. Let me know when you'll arrive so I can meet you there." Chris wanted to shower and change before they went to dinner.

"I'll try to be there as soon as I can," Chris said. "Gotta do some work now, though, so I can leave early."

"I’ll see you later, then."

They had trouble hanging up on each other anyway. It took them three tries, which was a bit ridiculous but also very sweet.

An hour later, Tom was in the car on the motorway. The hotel was booked and Vicky knew he was on the road. Tom turned on the music and settled down for the drive.

It was the first time this week he actually had space and time to think, and not run from one emergency to the next, trying to make sure his new relationship was supported and moving in the right direction. All in all, he thought, the week had turned out better than he had had any reason to hope based on the last weekend. He thought back to Wednesday night, that extraordinary ride on the boat and its aftermath that had cemented like nothing else before just how devoted they were to each other, and to making it work. Last night had been like the bonus cherry on top, their hearts actually beating as one, both very much on the same page about their relationship, and where they wanted it to go. The memory of that evening, the quiet moments with Chris and India, and then just lying on the bed with Chris, gazing into each other’s eyes and just being breathless with the moment and each other, made Tom shiver in appreciation and gratitude.

And now here he was, by his lone self, on the way to Oxford, and with every mile, he felt his disquietude grow. He’d felt he needed that talk with Vicky, felt he needed to support their relationship this way. He felt he had too many ghosts in the closet that prevented him from being present with what he had now, and he needed to take that on.

He now had a good idea what it would be like if he could put all these issues aside and concentrated on nothing but his future with Chris, and he desperately wanted that to happen.

But with each new mile under his wheels he wished more that Chris had come along. That he didn’t have to face this alone. Half an hour into the drive his throat and chest were so tight that he had trouble breathing, and he realized he wouldn’t be able to just push through this one.

Tom took the nearest exit to a roadhouse and parked as far away from the busy restaurant and petrol station as he could. Leaning his forehead on his steering wheel, he took long, labored breaths, but the anxiety would not pass.

He turned off the music and thought what to do. All he wanted was Chris, and Chris was at work.

He took out his phone and called up Chris’ profile. His stomach cramped. Chris was probably nowhere near his phone. If he was, did he really want to burden him with this?

He punched the dial button and listened to the call going through. After three rings, Chris’ mailbox picked up. For a moment, he was at a loss what to say. But Chris would see that he had called, and probably worry.

“Chris, I… you said to call if anything was wrong, and… I’m at a roadhouse, feeling like shit. Can you call me back?” He disconnected, his forehead back against the wheel.

The whole week simply came crushing down on him. He’d been so busy running from here to there and trying to figure out what Chris needed. He had not minded; it was so rewarding when it worked. Chris had been right last weekend, that week had needed to be conquered, and it had taken both their full attention to do it. But now, at the end of it, he felt so desperate that it literally took his breath away.

It took 45 min for Chris to call back. Enough time for him to go back and forth over the whole week and to realize, with startling clarity, that it had not only been Chris who’d been right this past Saturday, it had also been him. There was only so long he could put himself second. He needed Chris’ time and attention, and he finally needed a chance to talk, share his worries and find solace in Chris’ gentle regard. The idea that the evening was already planned away for other things again, that he had to wait for an extra two hours to see Chris, and then still had to sit through dinner with his Dad and Victoria before he had him to himself left him breathless with desperation. Yes, Chris had planned yet another lavish night, but really, all he wanted was talk, and be with him. And they would hardly find any time to do that before they were driving back to pick up India, and then it would be India’s time again first. And he was choking on it. This needed to stop.

The phone rang. It was Chris.

“Tom?” was his breathless first word. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” Tom said. “Nothing happened to me.” He had not meant to scare Chris.

“What’s going on, honey?”

Just listening to his voice made Tom tear up. “Not doing so good,” he choked out. “I’m sorry.”

“Babe, start from the top. Where are you?”

“A roadhouse about fifty miles outside London.”

“What happened?”

Tom wondered what to say, and then simply summarized: “I think I’m having an anxiety attack.”

“About Oxford?” Chris asked. “Honey, should I come pick you up?”

“You’re at work.”

“Yeah, so?” Chris said. “You need me.”

“I don’t think I can go to Oxford today.”

“Okay.” He heard some rustling in the background, a door - probably to Chris’ trailer - was opened, a few words exchanged and the door closed again. “Sorry, I just had someone bring me lunch. I’m all yours now.”

“Huh.” It was so mundane and had so little to do with how desperate he felt.

“Do you want me to call Vicky to cancel?” Chris offered. “Or have you already done it?”

“I can’t just cancel,” Tom snorted. “She’s already waiting for me.”

“Oh yeah? What time did you want to be there?”

Tom checked the time and winced. “In fifteen minutes.”

“She’s going to worry if you don’t show up.”

“Probably.” He didn’t want to think about Vicky.

“Babe?” Chris asked when Tom didn’t say anything else. “Tom, can you talk to me?”

“I’m just so overwhelmed,” Tom said quietly. “I’m at the limit of what I can take. I thought it was a good idea, but now I can’t go up there and open a new can of worms.”

“Tom, I’m coming to get you,” Chris said.

“You can’t just leave the set,” Tom said.

“Watch me,” Chris told him. “If you’re having a genuine anxiety attack, I don’t want you to drive.”

Tom laughed. “Where are we going to put me?”

“Somewhere where you feel safe,” Chris said.

“Chris, I can’t suddenly bail on seeing my father or Vicky!”

“Why not?”

“It’s impolite. And at some point I’ll have to face them, and have to face what happened to me, so I can finally be here with you, and not keep working on what happened to me in the past.”

“Tom, where does this suddenly come from?”

“There’s nothing sudden about it!” Tom cried. “I’ve been working on this since our first night together. It’s been a theme when I came out to my family that weekend, and having me struggle over my role in India's life has not been making it better!”

“Why didn’t you… oh. You did. You did tell me about it.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“Tom, I’ll call you back in five minutes. Don’t go anywhere.” Chris hung up.

Frustrated, Tom was ready to fling his phone somewhere. Chris kept telling him to say something when he needed help. He’d called him and asked for help. He’d asked for help the previous week. All he got now was… what? A hung-up call?

By the time Chris called him back ten minutes later, Tom was at the end of his rope with the world, and especially with Chris.

“What?” he answered curmudgeonly.

“I’m on the way into costume,” Chris said. “I’ll have them slap-dap me about the make-up. I’m picking you up. You’re not going anywhere, promise me that. Strike that, see if you can get a snack somewhere. It’s after lunch time and you’re no good on an empty stomach.”

“Chris, you can’t just…”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Chris said, and the tone in his voice stopped Tom short. “Don’t tell me. You can’t call me being so desperate, and not expect me to do something about it. I’ve ignored you long enough. It needs to end.” He blew out a breath. “You have no idea how angry I am with myself right now. Babe, I can’t keep talking until I’m in the car. Please go have something to eat, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“I need to call Vicky to tell her, and I don't know what to say!” Tom said.

“Text me her number and I’ll do it,” Chris soothed.

“I can’t just…”

“Tom, stop telling me what I can’t do for you,” Chris said. “We’re together and… please allow me to take care of you. Please. It’s a tiny thing for me, and it’s a huge one for you, so just please let me take care of it.”

"I don't know why this is all suddenly so difficult!" Tom said, frustrated. "Being with you is throwing everything out of whack!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted them back. "I'm sorry, Chris, I didn't mean it that way."

"Tom." It sounded as if Chris was sitting down instead of frantically pacing his trailer. "I'm not counting anything against you that you say while you're still hungry, but please go and get something to eat?"

"Okay," Tom said in a subdued tone.

"By the time you've eaten I'll be in the cab and call you back, okay?"

"Okay."

"Tom, I love you. You're not alone. We'll get a handle on this. I believe in us."

It made Tom smile against all the odds. "I do, too."

"Okay. I'll be with you shortly. Prepare to be cuddled and fussed over until you squeak."

"Heh."

"I love you. I'll be right there. Have faith."

"I do. Love you, too."

"Remember, I'm always back for more."

Tom drew a quick breath and pressed his amulet against his chest. "I will."

  
  


* * *

  
  


It took Tom a moment to feel stable enough to leave the car. Pulling his cap into his face, he made it over to the restaurant and got a few sandwiches, a chocolate bar and a couple of fizzy drinks to tide him over until Chris arrived. He made it back to the car unscathed and sat, music playing, torn between moaning over his own ineptitude to get his emotions under control and gratitude over Chris' no-questions-asked approach. Of course Chris was right and the food helped. He ate two sandwiches, emptied one fizzy drink and then had the chocolate bar. He gave a huge relieved sigh over the chocolate melting in his mouth and then realized he’d been spreading bread crumbs all over the interior of his new car. 

His frantic cleaning was interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing. He took it and it was Chris.

"We're about half an hour away from you. How are you?"

"Better. I ate. Feeling a bit foolish to have made such a fuss."

"Ready to go Oxford?"

"No." The tight feeling in his chest was back instantly. "Really not."

"Okay listen, I talked to Vicky. So don't worry about that part, okay?"

"What did she say?"

"That she doesn't know how you do it sometimes, and of course it's all right and please take care of yourself."

It warmed him unexpectedly. "Oh."

"Also, I want you to think about where you want to go instead. Home?"

Tom opened the other drink and thought. "Not really."

"Want to go away for the weekend?"

"That sounds heavenly but don't we need to pick up India?" The idea that they would have to deal with a surely freaked-out Elsa the next day made him want to sigh, but it was easier than thinking about going to Oxford.

"Hm." Chris took a moment to answer. "Tom, I'm wondering, I'd like to offer Elsa to keep India until she has to leave for the airport tomorrow," he shared. "I'm not sure what you'd rather like, having India sooner, or have some time with just me?" He said it without a shred of self-consciousness.

"You're asking me?" It was unexpected and it was pleasing.

"Depending on where we're staying for the weekend, if it's not too far away from London, I could just drive over, pick up India, and come back to you."

"I would love that," Tom said wholeheartedly and then recovered with a quick, "If that's what you want?"

"Okay, you think where we go and I'm going to make a quick call to Becky and see where we're at."

"You mean I would get to have you to myself until tomorrow evening?" Tom asked, his voice hopeful.

"That settles it, then," Chris said. "Next time I call you, I want you to tell me where we're going."

"Okay."

It took Chris no five minutes to call him back. “Looking good,” he reported.

“What did Becky say?”

“She called me decent for suggesting it,” Chris said, sounding a bit chagrined. “I guess it’s all in the sell.”

“When do we pick India up?”

“5 pm tomorrow. Becky will bring Elsa to the airport and then come back. But she needs to leave by 6, so 5 pm it is. Have you thought about where you want to go?”

“Are you still serious about going away for the weekend?”

“I’d been looking forward to going to Oxford with you,” Chris shared. “Make the most of the day.”

“But I could’ve come back early,” Tom said. “That was the idea.”

“And I liked the idea of going away with you and making it really special. Pamper you a bit,” Chris said. “Pull all the stops on the romancing.”

“While having dinner with my Dad?”

“Wouldn’t that be funny. No. I’d just thought about romancing you, but you came up with all the family stuff, so I thought it was important to you.”

“It is important to me,” Tom said. “I didn’t know I had the choice of just having you since you were so adamant about joining me.”

“You told me we’d stay in your Dad’s house. At least I steered you away from that.”

Tom went quiet. “I guess we should’ve communicated better.”

“I talked you into staying overnight in a hotel,” Chris said. “You wanted to come home to spend more time with me.”

“I want to spend more time with you but I don’t want to have an emergency each time to get it,” Tom said quietly.

“No,” Chris said. “And you have no idea how sorry I am about that.”

Tom just let that stand.

“So do you have plans for us?” Chris asked softly. “Or do you want me to think of something?”

Tom gave it a moment. “I just want you,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“Okay.”

“We’re not going to tell anyone where we’re going, just that we won’t be reachable until Monday morning.”

“Is it going to be anywhere near London?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, we’re going to… Chris, it’s going to be really simple. And I don’t want to go out, I just want you.”

“I promise I’ll be there.”

“I’m going to have to call and ask if the house is available,” Tom said.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or will it be a surprise?” Chris asked.

Tom thought a moment and then broke out in a slow smile. “It’ll be a surprise,” he said softly.

“Will I get to pamper you?”

“You can do all the cooking if you like…?” Tom suggested.

“Is there a fireplace?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Bathtub?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” He could virtually hear Chris’ indulgent smile on the other end. “Okay.”

“How far are you out?”

“Let me ask.” He heard Chris converse with the driver. “About ten minutes.”

“Let’s hang up and I’ll try to get in contact with the landlords,” Tom said. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

“You better believe it,” Chris promised. "Tom?"

"Hm?"

"I'll make it up to you, I swear."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please no Tom bashing in the comments.


	23. Chapter 23

Chris nearly forgot to pay the driver he was in such a hurry to reach Tom. There was that moment of vulnerability whenever he got out of a car in a public place... and then Tom got out the same time and he hardly managed a hastened "Thank you" to the cabby before he rushed over, enveloped his lover in his arms and proceeded to hug the stuffing out of him.

"Are you okay?" Chris asked, over and over again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine." But Tom's voice was shaking, and he didn't let go. "I'm fine."

His breath left a warm sheen of dampness on Chris' neck, convincing Chris that he was real. In all the time he had been together with Tom, he'd never been that afraid.

He knew, theoretically, that he was supposed to be the strong one here, that he was supposed to help Tom, but the relief made his knees so weak that for a while all he could do was stay upright by holding Tom as tightly as he could. He wanted to tell Tom to never do something like this again, but in his heart of hearts, he knew that his negligence was partly responsible for them to be in this situation. It scared him. It humbled him. And it made him feel a hundred stories tall.

This was his man, his Tom. And he better started living up to it.

"I never thought," Tom said, and he sounded incredulous. "That it might feel so good to need somebody that much because when you're there..." And then his voice gave out, but Chris knew what he'd wanted to say, he felt it himself, in his bones. That scary drop when you fell in love; were you ready to let go, were you ready to dare being hurt like you'd never been hurt before? Because every moment you loved meant you presented your jugular to be slashed, every single moment. It meant trusting the other person to not take out the knife and go for it, for whatever reason.

"Let's get you into the car," Chris said. He didn't really want to let Tom go, but he needed to sit down or it would become apparent how much he was shaking.

There was a short shuffle until Tom understood that Chris was insisting on driving. They met in the car, and Chris wheeled back his seat so he could move better. It was harder to hug in here, but he could show more gentleness, brushing his thumb along Tom's neck when his lover buried his face against his shoulder and held on for dear life. He was very thankful for the tinted windows now.

"It's okay," he soothed. "I'm here now."

Tom breathed a soggy laugh. "I thought that's how the whole trouble started?" he tried a tired joke.

"Is it worth it?" Chris wanted to know.

"Yes!"

"Tell me why." He was absolutely ready to be there for Tom, but he needed to know that was what Tom wanted. "Hm?"

Tom drew a sobbing breath. He wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Cause I want to do this with you," Tom said. "Don't you?"

"Just wanting to make sure, baby." Tom looked disheveled and messy, there were red blotches in his face and his hair stuck in all directions. He looked heartbreakingly vulnerable, his heart on his sleeve.

This was a two-way-street, Chris realized. If he stepped into this now, whatever he'd been so eager to protect that past weekend was up for grabs. He could not care for Tom, become open for his lover's thoughts and feelings, without doing the same. And he didn't know yet if what would come out of this would be safe. "I promised you I'd always be back for more, and here I am," was what he said out loud. "Now where are we going?"

* * *

Tom had already programmed the sat-nav and explained the rough direction they were going. Chris needed a few moments to adjust his seat and the mirrors, then took an experimental lap around the car park to get used to Tom's car. They concentrated on traffic and direction for a while, giving both of them a moment to compose themselves. Once Chris had settled into the middle lane of the busy motorway, and things went smoothly for a few miles, he felt Tom shift beside him and then curl his hand around his left thigh.

Chris reached over and quickly kissed his brow, and Tom settled against his shoulder. Chris covered Tom's hand with his own, and if he could have, he would have closed his eyes and just let himself fall into this. A quick look at the sat-nav showed that they still had one hour forty-five minutes to travel – if the traffic held up. Chris made a mental note to keep an eye out for the exit he would have to take to get to Becky's tomorrow. It seemed such a long time in the future, and so close at the same time.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked Tom gently.

Tom shook his head. "Just so glad you're here."

"Me, too." He rubbed Tom's hand with his thumb.

"I guess I should feel foolish but I'm just so relieved," Tom said.

"Foolish about what?"

"Breaking down like that."

"It's been long coming, huh?" Chris asked, quickly looking at his lover's face.

Tom's hand contracted around his thigh. "I can't help but think," he thought out loud, "that I wouldn't do this if I didn't trust you to catch me," he said.

"I'm glad you called," Chris acknowledged.

"It's not just that," Tom mused. It took him a moment to continue, but Chris didn't mind. He was finally present with Tom, not busy rescuing the rest of the world. He had hated the thought of Tom going up to Oxford to see his family without him from the get-go, but feeling so strongly about it seemed wrong. He didn't want to make it look as if he wanted to tell Tom how to live his life. Now he wished he had said something right away, instead of trying to wreath himself around Tom's plans, inadvertently making things much more difficult where he had wanted to make them easier. He entwined their hands and squeezed Tom's fingers, getting a squeeze back. "Chris, I love you," Tom said. It sounded so heartfelt, so genuine. "I just want to throw my heart in and jump after it and the scariest thing is, it feels like the easiest thing I've ever done."

Some things were easier to say in a moving car, where you had shut out the rest of the world and knew you were completely alone with each other. Chris wanted to tell Tom that he was just human, and that he would make mistakes, and that he would occasionally hurt him, but Tom already knew that. Yet they were still here, and Tom had still called and trusted him with his insecurities and his fears. Not quite knowing yet how to deal with them, or what to expect from Chris, but he had called.

"I haven't told anyone when I've been feeling like that for a long time," Tom echoed his thoughts. And then, on a very thoughtful note: "There was no one ready to listen."

Chris lifted Tom's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. He didn't know what to say, other than what he'd said before. "I'm here now."

Tom chuckled quietly. "Apparently that's enough to make me feel blissfully content," he said decisively. "I don't have a care in the world right now." He snuggled himself in again. "I can't remember what I was so upset about."

Chris smiled. He had to change lanes but once he had settled into the flow of traffic again, he said: "I guess that was the problem this week. I know you wanted me to talk – you asked me several times – but I felt just like what you just said."

"Still do?" Tom asked.

"You still make me stupidly happy, yes." It made Chris grin.

"Even like this?"

"Even like this."

There was a pause. "I guess eventually, we'll have to...?" Tom ventured.

"When we're ready," Chris said.

"I don't want this to end," Tom sighed. "I don't want us to go at each other like last weekend."

"Neither do I," Chris said. "That was horrible."

It hung between them, but not uncomfortably so, more like a puzzle that they now had a crack at than a threat.

"Maybe we don't have to," Tom ventured. "Are there any issues open from last week?"

They both went quiet as they went back in thought to the previous weekend. Then both shuddered at the same time.

"That was awful," Tom said. "It was horrible."

"I know." Thinking back made Chris sick to his stomach.

"I felt like you couldn't hear me."

"I wasn't," Chris acknowledged. "I want to be here now, Tom. Can we please forget... no. Not forget. But maybe move on?" The topic made him truly nauseous.

"What changed?" Tom wanted to know.

He really had a right to ask.

"Two by four," Chris said. "When you just let me have it on Monday."

"That was tough," Tom simply said. "But it also felt good. I was so angry with you."

"And if I hadn't reacted?"

"Eh." Tom inclined his head. "If you'd kept harping on the way you did Sunday, I guess... I don't know, Chris." He exhaled. "I don't want to think about it. Just glad we managed to turn the corner."

"You'd have thrown me out eventually," Chris finished Tom's thought. "You'd have been right."

"I wasn't going to give you up to Elsa so easily," Tom said, a challenging light in his eyes. "I've fought too hard to have you."

Thinking back, Chris had to acknowledge just how hard Tom had fought. Had faced Elsa's meltdown. Had simply overruled Chris' inhibition and self-doubt about making a clear commitment and given him one of the best nights of his life. Had supported him fully the night after that, when he needed help with deciding where to go with his counseling. Had been playful and gentle with his daughter, allowing her to get to know him at her pace.

"This whole week, all the things you've been doing for me, and for India," Chris thought out loud. "Was there any moment when I've been doing anything for you? Have any of your needs been met or has it all been about me?"

Tom took a while to answer, and that made Chris very itchy and very defensive. If Tom had needs, he had to express them! _And when he did, did you listen?_ a very uncomfortable voice inside of him asked.

 _I'm here now,_ he told himself. _I'm here now, and I want to know._

"I know, honey, just thinking back," Tom answered, making Chris realize with a pang that he had spoken out loud. "It's not so easy because... you were right in a lot of ways. You had to use the time that Elsa was still in London, and you had to see your daughter as many times as possible."

"But you got completely caught in the dregs and you have no idea how horribly sorry I am about that," Chris said. "It can't be that I have to deal with things and just expect you to sit by and wait."

"But you didn't," Tom said. "You invited me to master this with you, and be by your side, and that's what I ended up doing. And each time I did, I was amply rewarded."

"By Elsa flipping out at you?" Chris asked. "Or by me making you horribly uncomfortable with making you part of my counseling?"

"No, by realizing that I was actually making a difference in your life," Tom said. "That you want me to be a part of it. It's hard to switch from being only responsible for yourself to being part of somebody else's life, and to understand in which ways they need you."

"It is," Chris said, and he exhaled. "But I don't want my needs to always trump yours."

"Neither do I, trust me," Tom said. "But it's easier for me to... give you what you need when I feel you're trying."

"What do you mean?"

"Hm, like... I was still pretty upset with you on Monday, but you told me how sorry you were about what had happened over the weekend. We talked, and you told me that you would like me to come to counseling with you. So we talked on the phone when you went... which was really nice, by the way. And then you told me you wanted to make the effort to join me at Rene's dinner. And because you tried, that it turn made it possible for me to come pick you up with the car. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah." Chris blew out a breath.

"And then we had a nice evening, and you weren't pressuring me with India, so I could decide to handle her myself when she was crying. It's all those little things."

"Why did you take me out on the boat on Wednesday?" Chris asked.

"That was for selfish reasons," Tom said, a wistful smile on his face.

"It was?"

"I knew how uncomfortable you were about making a commitment," Tom said. "But I needed you to make one. I needed to make one. It was a gamble."

"If I'd said no...?"

"Then I would've had to conclude that the things that I saw in you weren't really there," Tom said. "I thought you needed that last push, that bit of confidence shown in you, so you could make the leap. If that hadn't been the case and you'd still been reluctant to commit to me while showing such strong commitment to making it work with Elsa, then I would probably have thought about ending it."

Chris thought about the many ways in which Tom had laid claim on him that night, and the many ways he had gladly submitted to being claimed, owned, marked and taken, several times over. How fortuitous that he had instinctively understood that this was a moment to shut up and take it, and oh how gladly he had taken it. "You were right," he said. "I needed that last push. I didn't want to hurt you any more. I felt I was in no position to offer you anything but misery."

"Then I'm glad I did it," Tom said.

"I'm glad you did it, too," Chris nodded. "But now teach me how to do better, Tom." The mere idea that that evening might have decided about their relationship did not sit well with Chris.

"Coming to my rescue like a knight in shining armor isn't a bad start," Tom said smugly, trying to inject a lighter note.

But Chris was too deep into it now to follow him. "Last night, when I asked you to come help me with counseling," he said. "Be honest."

"Just because a situation might be uncomfortable for me doesn't mean you can't ask me," Tom said.

"So it was uncomfortable."

"Yes."

"I loved how feisty you were," Chris said. "But if you don't want me to ask you again..."

"No, ask me," Tom said clearly. "It's your counseling. It's not the same as..." He fell quiet.

Chris let him. Inwardly, he congratulated himself on having noticed that something was off kilter. He stayed away from the temptation of telling Tom that he didn't have to talk about it. He wanted to know.

"I had a bit of a bad experience," Tom finally said. "Back at Eton. Because I had such difficulties fitting in at the beginning, I received special attention and had to see the house master twice a week. He'd talk with me about my progress and how I felt about being in school."

Tom wiped his hands on his jeans. "Let's just say I learned fairly quickly what he wanted to hear so he'd leave me alone." He gave Chris a quick look. "It hasn't really helped me being open about myself," he concluded matter-of-factly. "And situations like that still give me the creeps."

Several puzzle pieces suddenly clicked into place. Tom had never had the luxury of looking at Chris' counseling from a neutral point of view. The mere idea had been tainted with uncomfortable memories from the start. The courage it must have taken Tom to even come anywhere near the office this week was a bit hard to fathom. But no, whatever news Chris would have brought from counseling with Elsa, they had no chance of falling on unprejudiced ears. The fact that Tom wasn't even going anywhere near detail about his own experience was incredibly telling.

"What are you thinking?" Tom asked him, making him aware that he'd been quiet for a long time.

"I'd been thinking," Chris said slowly. "Whether you'd be interested in coming to counseling with me for a couple of dates."

Tom threw him a quick look. "What for?" he asked.

"Lots of reasons," Chris said. "That was why I wanted you to be there last night. I knew I wanted to have a counselor who... but I'm just losing you, aren't I? I'm sorry."

"It just makes me so uncomfortable," Tom said, shifting in his seat. "I'm really happy that it's something that you find useful."

"I do."

"But I just don't want to go near it," Tom admitted. "I don't want my life taken apart and judged by a third party."

"It helps me if it's someone I'm not involved with, whom I can't hurt with what I'm saying," Chris explained.

"I want to talk about my feelings with someone I trust, respect and love," Tom said. "The love is important to me. I need that personal connection, that sense of recognition. I want me talking about my feelings, and you talking about yours, to bring us closer and understand each other better. I want that wonderful feeling of being accepted as I am, and celebrating it with you by making love. I want the whole package deal. I want to give this to you, and you only."

"I want that, too," Chris said. "And at the same time, I understand that I've been hurting the people I love most a lot more than I ever wanted to. I want to stop. I want to know why I do it, and what I can do  to prevent doing it."

"I'm fine with you going," Tom said. "I really am. I can see how important it is to you, and I am trying to make sure you know you can talk with me about it if you feel you want to. It's just not for me. At least not right now."

"Okay." Chris captured Tom's hand in his own again. "But we need to talk about India."

"Did you want to go to counseling with me about India?" Tom asked.

"I'd been thinking about it," Chris admitted. "Because we seem to have a hard time finding a way to deal with the situation that we're both fine with. And I'm including myself in that, Tom. I can see that my approach wasn't very well thought out. I can see that having to factor in Elsa isn't going to make it easier, either. But I want to see you happy. And I want to see my daughter happy. I want her to have a home with us, where she knows she's accepted and has two loving parents."

"A parent and me," Tom corrected gently.

Chris threw him an exasperated look.

"Is that what we still need to talk about?" Tom asked him.

Chris sighed. "We really do."

"We can do that," Tom said, and he seemed relieved. "I'd be happy to."

His willingness puzzled Chris and he mulled it over as he turned off the motorway. "Why do I think we need to take it to counseling and you're happy to talk about it?"

"Because I've been trying to talk to you about it for a whole week," Tom said reasonably. "Be careful, oncoming traffic."

Chris stopped the car and waited for the traffic to pass before he turned right. He yawned. "How long until we're there? I could really use some coffee."

"I have a sandwich left from lunch, if you want it?"

"Sure. If you'll share it with me?"

"Also got a Coke left. I'll share that with you, too." Tom gave him a cheeky grin.

It made Chris smile back. "What are you grinning over?"

"Oh," Tom made innocently. "Just realizing that I'll have you to myself for the next 24 hours and all the great things we could do in that time."

"We could?"

"Uh-huh. Be careful up there, the sat-nav is wrong. Take the third exit on the roundabout, not the second."

Chris did as asked and watched the sat-nav adjust accordingly.

"Just follow the road for the next 26 miles," Tom coached. "It's not too far now."

They settled in and Tom handed him two-thirds of his sandwich.

"I'm not driving," Tom defended himself. "You need the calories more than I do."

"Spaghetti and meatballs for dinner?" Chris suggested. "I have a hankering."

"Sounds great to me. Cynthia offered to run to the shop for us, but I told her to wait until you could tell her what you needed."

"What I needed?"

"You offered to do the cooking?"

"Ah." It made Chris smile. "I did. Sorry for being obtuse."

"It's a converted barn right by the sea," Tom enthused. "We used to go down there on weekends, a whole group from RADA. I haven't been in a while, but Richard and Cynthia have always been sweethearts."

"How many does it sleep?"

"We managed to fit in 20 for a party one weekend, but that was with sleeping bags and everything," Tom said. "It has a few bedrooms and there are two sofas downstairs that you can sleep on. We'll have the run of the place, it'll be plenty of space."

"Do they have a cot for India?" Chris asked.

"I asked Richard on the phone, and he said yes. We certainly never needed one. Maybe a couple of babies were _made_ on our weekends, but we never actually brought one back."

"You're getting your mojo back, aren't you?" Chris teased. He'd already polished off his sandwich and now accepted the can of Coke. "Ah. Better."

"I have a weekend with you ahead of me," Tom said. "Just you and me." He bounced in his seat. "That's enough to make anyone happy."


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Chris arrive at the barn by the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry if this chapter doesn't make a lot of sense (or progress for that matter). I'm down with the flu and my brain is only at a fraction of its usual capacity.

Chris only realized how absolutely spent and exhausted he was, himself, when they finally parked the car in the secluded courtyard. The barn was lit, and when they heard that they had arrived, Richard and Cynthia, a couple in their fifties, came out to greet them.

"I fixed tea," Cynthia said. "And brought some scones. Let me know what you need and we'll be out of your hair."

Richard helped them get their bags inside and went upstairs with Tom to get the cot from the attic.

It all went by in a blur; even going through the shopping list with Cynthia was done on half a brain; the other was already asleep.

"I'll bring the shopping in through the mud room and put it away for you," Cynthia said. Apparently, the signs of exhaustion were already showing on his face.

It was horribly impolite to expect her to do all the work and not at least offer to help. "Thank you," he just said. "We both appreciate it."

"Say hello with your little girl when you bring back the keys on Sunday," she said. "We love babies."

"Will do." That was a small enough payment for her kindness.

Cynthia ushered her husband out the door when he came down, and then it was just them, Tom and Chris.

Tom signed at him to shift in his chair, and once Chris had, Tom straddled his legs and they just sat for quite a while, foreheads connected.

"We can't ever let it go that far again," Chris finally rasped out. "I'm finished."

"Agreed." Tom cupped his jaw and kissed him very gently; his lips, his nose, his cheek bones, his eyelids, his brow.

Chris sighed into the caress, his arms contracting around Tom. He beckoned for a kiss and got it, gentle and careful, deep and loving. "I love you," he murmured. "So freaking much."

"Hmmm." Tom shifted in his lap, let his hand slip into Chris' hair and deepened the kiss until there was nothing in Chris' world but Tom. Only his lover's gentle laughter made him aware that he had finished the kiss. "You look completely blissed out," Tom told him lovingly. "Coffee, scone, bed?"

"Okay." It was fine with Chris as long as it involved Tom. He knew his lover was theoretically too tall for this, but when Tom had set the table, laid out the warm scones, butter, honey and spreads, and poured both of them a generous mug of coffee with milk and sugar, he didn't allow him to take a second chair but pulled him back on his knee.

Tom didn't protest. He made up a couple of scones for both of them while Chris watched him, his chin on Tom's shoulder, and then fed him a piece. His fingers were soon sticky with honey and butter and Chris caught his hand and licked them clean. He was very aware of Tom's slightly open mouth and his soft gasp, but begged for more food. While Tom made up another scone, Chris had a good sip of his coffee, and then opened his mouth for another rich morsel. He was sure that being so tired he could hardly think was helping the process but he really enjoyed this. It was intimate and kind, warm and connecting, and when Tom started drizzling honey right into his mouth, and then kissing it out, Chris shifted them so he fully straddled him again, and roughly pulled Tom closer by his ass.

Tom whelped and wrapped his arms around Chris' shoulders, moaning when Chris nuzzled against his neck, licking it. Tom's cock was clearly visible in his tight jeans, and Chris simply opened the button and zipper and took it in his hand, causing Tom to cry out with surprise.

"I thought you must be uncomfortable," Chris murmured against his ear. "Just trying to help out."

All Tom managed was a desperate whimper. Chris found it encouraging. "Feed me some more?"

Tom gave him an incredulous look but managed to, while his hips rolled in Chris' lap, and Chris stroked Tom's cock in a lazy beat.

"Dessert," Chris finally claimed, shifting Tom from his lap into the chair, and kneeled between his legs.

Tom didn't protest; he didn't say anything. He choked a cry and bit his hand when Chris took his cock into his mouth, then his fingertips dug into Chris' scalp. Chris relished every second; Tom's unique scent, made more intense by the light sheen of sweat in his groin, the little desperate noises he made, his muscular thighs shifting and straining under Chris' hands.

Chris groped around on the table, making a loud mess, then disengaged for a moment and brought down the honey.

"Oh god you don't... Chris... the fuck..."

Chris used a spoon to drizzle a good dollop of honey on Tom's glistening cock and then went to work sucking it off. The almost offensive sweetness suddenly mixed with Tom's own salty-bitter taste when he came into Chris' mouth, making Chris smile and swallow as he hummed out his appreciation. He had to laugh when Tom started whining with over-stimulation.

"Enough?" he asked innocently, suddenly feeling so much better. He gently bit the inside of Tom's still jean-clad thigh, his own need still running hot.

"Enough," Tom wheezed. "But oh so good."

"Hm." Chris bedded his head on Tom's thigh and wrapped his arms around his hips. Tom lazily combed through his long hair and Chris was almost certain he had nodded off when they suddenly heard tires on the gravel in the yard.

"Cynthia," Tom said, his voice full of laughter. "Quick, Chris..."

They managed to make a hasty retreat and went up the wooden staircase giggling like schoolboys. Tom lead Chris into one of the bedrooms – Chris really didn't care which one – and closed the door behind them. He turned on the bedside table lamp and started kissing Chris, slowly peeling him out of his clothes. Chris was fairly sure that only the fact that he was so drunk on sleepiness made him ignore the fact that their landlady was still rummaging around in the kitchen, but then Tom bit his nipple and slid him out of his jeans and he really didn't care any more.

Tom's skin against his own felt heavenly as they fell into the freshly made bed, the scent of fabric softener rising around them. They conferred in short whispers and Tom quickly came up with the desired lube, his moon-shaped, rounded ass a delicious target for Chris' tongue, lips and teeth as he half-hung out of bed, rummaging through a bag for it.

Chris stayed with the theme, lubed up his own cock and laid a solid track in Tom's crack, then lined up behind him and slowly started riding him. Tom twisted his torso so they could kiss; Chris' hunger for him so intense it seemed to coil his whole body. Their legs twisted and twined, and Chris' let his hands run between Tom's legs until he was hard again, and his cock sprang in Chris' hands in time with his thrusts.

They ended up on all fours, hands tightly entwined, Chris' cock safely ensconced between Tom's tight cheeks. He bucked and sweated; the way Tom presented himself and moved under him so incredibly delicious. He didn't want it to end and took short breaks, nibbling along Tom's neck and shoulders and telling him in no uncertain terms how adored he was, how appreciated, how he was the best lover Chris had ever had, how much he was giving him. His lust finally took over and he rode him to completion, both of them roaring out their orgasms. They were completely useless after, whimpering with aftershocks and trembling with emotion. Chris remembered to clean up his lover quickly, and then Tom curled up so tightly in his arms it felt like they were one person, not two. There weren't enough endearments in the world, not enough caresses to adequately express how he felt. But the way Tom sighed and snuggled into him, and the little affectionate sounds they each made said so much more than words ever could.

  


* * *

  


He'd expected to sleep until dinner, but Chris was awake again thirty minutes later. Tom was out like a light, though, and Chris didn't need to go anywhere. He turned on his side, his head pillowed on his arm, and simply took the time to watch his lover sleep.

Tom was lying on his stomach, one arm stretched out over his head, his face turned towards Chris.The arm closer to him was bent with Tom's hand near his chin. His short hair was still slightly sweaty and his eyelids twitched as he dreamed. The blanket lay loosely over his back, just below his shoulder blades, giving Chris ample view of his well-sculpted upper back and arms.

Chris just studied him. Tom's face in repose, the short locks that insisted on curling no matter how short they were, the incredible length of his eyelashes, the slightly ruddy color of his skin after all the exertion. His gorgeous, expressive, long-fingered hands which had, as always, one knuckle chafed from some stunt or other. Tom's lips were that lovely, natural mauve color that Chris found so kissable, above his expressive jaw that fit so well to the regal cheek bones and the sharp nose.

Chris leaned in and kissed the tip of said nose and then settled back on his side, watching Tom, just letting the thoughts and feelings come. Finding, to his satisfaction, that there was nothing but gentle love and affection.

He'd been so frantic when they first came together. That first night, waking up with Tom in his arms and knowing, with such heartbreaking certainty, that now that he had him, he wouldn't let him go again. There had been no rationale to it. No moment in which he thought: "Wait, what am I doing?" Just this overwhelming feeling of belonging, closure, and rightness. And from that moment on, he'd lived to see the same feelings in Tom's eyes, make him feel at ease about it, support him in his self-discovery, make sure he would not run scared.

Here they were, on the other side. There was no doubt Tom loved him back, Tom wanted him back, Tom was ready to go through a whole lot to have him in his life. Chris joined his forehead to Tom's and gently grasped his neck, his thumb brushing over his ear. He wanted to know what living with Tom would be like, spending every day with him, learning all his little quirks, care for him when he was sick, support him when he needed it, give advice when he was asked, and receive the same in return.

Life with Tom began to unfold in front of him. There would be changes, oh so many changes. There was so much to discuss. Where would they live? How would they cope once the shoot was over and they were each contracted to work in different countries? His own life had been mapped out to be spent with his wife and child, and contracts had been signed for the whole of the coming year. Yet now he wanted this. Falling asleep with Tom. Waking up with Tom. So simple. Being able to look up and seeing that smile. Having Tom's eyes light up at seeing him in return.

"Chris, why are you crying?"

Chris hadn't noticed that Tom was waking up, his own eyes had been closed as he inhaled Tom's presence. He smiled, feeling Tom's hand mimic his own position on Tom's neck.

"It's good crying," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Not super worried about me?"

"Heh." Chris sniffed. "I should be, shouldn't I? No, I'm not worried." He ran the back of his fingers across Tom's cheek and smiled at him. "Just busy loving you."

The answer seemed satisfying to Tom. He scooted closer and entwined their legs. They lay on their sides, mimicking each other's positions, just looking at each other.

"Shut up," Chris threatened playfully. "But I really think you're gorgeous."

Tom smiled. "You're not too bad, either."

"Sh, it's my turn," Chris cautioned. "I need to do a bit of lavish loving on you."

Tom looked at him curiously.

"Let me love you," Chris rumbled in his chest. "No discussion, no talking..." He scooted closer until their chests met. "Let me have that, Tom, please?"

He saw Tom's eyes roaming his face, and his lashes fluttered. He kissed them tenderly, one eyelid, then the other. Tom sighed into the embrace and rested his forehead against Chris' shoulder.

"Hmmmm," Chris hummed, tracing gentle lines on Tom's back. "So beautiful."

He rose on one elbow and nuzzled against Tom's hairline, inhaling his scent, placing gentle kisses along it. He flicked out his tongue against Tom's earlobe and then let his lips proceed along the shell, and his tongue explore its inner curve.

Tom giggled. "That tickles."

Chris slowly made his way down Tom's neck and along to his shoulder. He nuzzled against the indentation in front and made his way back along his clavicle. Tom stretched his neck like a cat when Chris kissed up his throat and circled his adam's apple with his tongue. He was already a bit scratchy again, but it didn't stop Chris from nibbling along Tom's jaw from one wing to the other while Tom started clawing at the sheet. He gently supported Tom's head when he kissed him, halting and appreciative.

"Lie on top of me?" Tom requested.

Chris did as Tom asked. They were both hard again, and their cocks aligned naturally. Tom squirmed with pleasure under him and ran his hands along Chris' back, making him shiver.

"Can I love you back?" Tom asked.

"Not finished with you yet," Chris mumbled. He ducked his head and nuzzled against Tom's neck, his favorite spot, lavishing it with little love bites and licks. "You taste so good," he moaned, realizing that they were slowly veering into different territory. He perched himself up and smiled at Tom. "Do you want to make love again?" he asked.

Tom's eyes were shining, he nodded. "Yeah."

"Am I doing okay?" Chris wanted to know.

"Yeah." Tom traced gentle fingertips along Chris' hairline. "Can you bind my thighs and come between my legs?" he asked. As always, his voice was a little higher and he spoke faster when he requested a sexual favor that he wasn't yet sure about. "And then make very slow love with me?"

"I would like that."

"I love it when you have me," Tom confided. "I love it when you want me so much."

"I always want you so much," Chris said with feeling. "Never doubt that." Apparently his gentle lovemaking was already showing results and he loved it. "There's been a lot of claiming and taking lately, huh?" he asked, his fingertip following the line of Tom's nose, skipping off its tip.

"Yeah."

"Suppose we already had each other," Chris rumbled. "We could just move on to loving and worshiping..."

"Yeah." It wasn't much more than a whisper.

"Not done yet, love," Chris murmured. "Not done by a long shot."

It was so important to Chris to show Tom love without a ticking clock to a preconceived finish. He needed to just get lost in Tom, feel and taste him, trace and smell, nip and lick. His arms around Tom's middle, he slowly mapped his chest, paid attention to what made him gasp and whimper. He licked his nipples and blew on them until they were perky and stood at attention, then lavished them with kisses and licks, and was very satisfied when a nip-and-suck made Tom nearly leap off the bed.

"You're a little too good at this," Tom panted.

"Just learning you, honey." Chris looked up and let a hand run through Tom's hair. "Hey." He scooted up, and Tom rushed to burrow his face against his shoulder. "It's okay," Chris soothed. "It's okay."

Tom drew a sobbing breath. "You can't... you can't always... unhinge me like that."

"Shhhh..." Chris wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he had a hunch. He pulled the duvet up around their shoulders and held Tom tightly, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. "It's okay. I'm here now."

He felt Tom's hands scrabble against his back as if he wasn't sure if he should hit him or hug him, and maybe that was the point. Tom had been holding on for so long. He let out an angry shout against his shoulder and his fists drummed against Chris' back. Chris just held him tightly and rode it out, and when Tom finally started sobbing, he sighed with relief.

"It's okay, my heart," he said. "It's okay."

"I don't want it to be okay," Tom wailed. "I don't want to keep hurting like that over and over and over again!"

"You have every right to be angry with me," Chris said.

"I'm not angry with you, I'm just afraid this is just going to be a fluke again and... and I can't do this again, Chris, I can't."

"Okay, what is going to be a fluke again?" He leaned back a little to see Tom's face.

"That I feel I can be... myself with you, and you'll be there."

"That's how it's going to be," Chris said.

"How do I know?"

"Because I say so." He wasn't going to go into Tom's doubt this time. He wasn't going to give in to his own doubts. He was sure. "We're both working _so hard_ ," he said. "So hard, Tom. It's got to count for something."

Tom gave a snort. "Oh god, sometimes I hate you," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I believe you," Tom sniffed.

"Okay." Chris kissed his temple and held Tom close.

"I believe in us," Tom said. "I believe we're going to make it."

"Good." Chris realized he didn't really have doubts, either.

"Am I still getting my request?" Tom asked insolently.

"From earlier?" Chris asked.

"Yes."

"Do you still feel like making love?" Chris asked.

"No."

"Honey..." Chris had to laugh.

"Just being contrary," Tom pouted.

"What do you want to do?" Chris asked.

He found himself pushed to his back, with Tom leaning over him, rolling his eyes in exasperation at himself. "I'm such a pushover!" He settled on Chris' chest where he snuggled himself in once more, and then drew Chris' arms around him. "This is all I need to be happy," he said, squeezing Chris' middle. "Just listening to your heart beat." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm _so easy_!"

Chris kissed the top of his head and used the softest of touch along Tom's hairline. "You're mine," he said softly.

"Yeah I'm yours." Tom still sounded exasperated, making Chris smile. "Like I have a chance."

"Do you want one?" Chris was very amused by this exchange.

"No," Tom said curmudgeonly, squeezing his arms around Chris.

"Good," Chris said. "I'm glad." He closed his eyes, keeping up his gentle exploration along Tom's neck and hairline, just concentrating on how the quality of his skin changed, how it was even softer in some places and prickly with 5-o'clock-shadow in others, how tracing it behind his ears made Tom give yet another frustrated sigh, indicating how pleasurable he found it, and tickling it just below made him giggle.

"You're determined to turn me into pudding, aren't you?" Tom sighed.

"No." Chris smiled. "But is it working?"

One blue eye appeared and stared at him warily. "Yes," he said, and the eye rolled.

"May I please kiss you?" Chris asked.

Tom sighed. "Fine."

"Like so against your will," Chris teased, he couldn't help it. He rolled them so they both lay on their sides. He closed his eyes at the feeling of Tom settling against his front, all the little movements so precious.

"Well?" Tom said insolently.

Chris opened his eyes to see him with his eyes closed and lips pursed for a kiss. "Tom." He had to laugh. "Hey." He brushed a hand through his short locks and waited for Tom to open his eyes and peer at him. "What's going on?"

"I'm just being contrary," Tom said.

"About what, honey?"

"Feeling so much." Tom's hand came up to cover Chris' amulet. "I kind of shut it out when so much is happening and just do what needs to be done and right now..." He sighed, and peered up at Chris. "Your loving is getting it all up to the surface."

"Is it very bad?" Chris asked.

Tom shook his head. "Just confusing."

"Tell me?" Chris prompted.

"Working through the past week," he admitted. "Nothing I want to do right now." He blinked and looked expectantly at Chris. "You were loving me?" he prompted.

"Babe, I'm here now," Chris said once more. "Tell me."

Tom's breath halted and he looked pained. "I feel so vulnerable."

"Okay."

"And it really is just that confusing, Chris." Tom's brow was furrowed. "Yeah, I'm upset about how the last weekend went. But it also felt good to go full-out with you and see... kind of get proof of what it would look like if we ever really fought, or did not understand each other."

"And?"

"I honestly felt like you'd been gone, but... but you stayed. You stayed through my rant and through me being upset with you, and... and you came after me and made sure I was safe. We couldn't understand each other, but... your devotion to me didn't waver one inch. It's one hell of a confusing message."

Chris just kissed his forehead.

"And... and if we try, if we work on doing these things together, we... it does work, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Chris gently rubbed the back of Tom's neck. "Though I wish it was a lot easier. On both of us." He sighed.

"But that's not the point in a partnership, isn't it?" Tom asked. "That things are going smoothly all the time. You get thrown curve balls and challenges. The point is to rally and make it work."

"But I love that it's more raw with you," Chris confessed. "It's never just a matter of course. It's always really important things that we get stuck on. That you get stuck on, and then force me to look at. I love that about you. I love that about us being together, that you never let me get away with anything."

"But it's such hard work to keep pointing it out to you," Tom said. "To make you see what I see."

"And trust me, it's incredibly frustrating to be convinced that I have all angles covered, just to see, three, four days down the line, that you'd been right with your assessment all along," Chris admitted. "It makes me feel very foolish and very naive a lot of times."

"And I feel overly dramatic and anxious," Tom said. "I'm at a point where I wonder if I should even say anything because it's always such a mess. Just let it go, see it go down the drain, and when we're on the same page, start working on it with you instead of against you."

"So you see it, too," Chris stated, and sighed.

"I see someone with a lot more faith in humanity than I have the luxury of having," Tom made clear. "All I could see when we came together was how broken I was. And all you could see were all the parts that you loved anyway."

"Tom..."

"And I keep tripping over you not behaving exactly how I imagine you to and then just retreating into my shell."

"You weren't in a shell last weekend when you kept telling me what I was doing wrong," Chris said. "You were pretty adamant."

"I retreated anyway, in the end," Tom said. "When I couldn't stand it any more."

"Yeah." It felt like a cold fist had grabbed Chris' heart. "I don't think I can tell you just how sorry I am about that."

"I mean, we can pretend it will never happen again, but what if it does?" Tom said. "It's easier for me to expect it will, and operate from that, than give in to what you're doing right now, and be as trusting as I was before it all happened."

It hurt. "I guess I deserve that," Chris acknowledged.

"I don't want you to deserve it," Tom said hoarsely. "I just want to trust you again the way I did before."

Chris thought about it for a moment. "I went after you last Sunday," he said. "And I went after you last Monday. When you needed me today, I was right there."

"You're right," Tom said, chagrined. "I'm ungrateful."

"No, you feel how you feel," Chris said. "And what I did wasn't right."

"I'm afraid of having to fight for you to see me again," Tom said. "Chris, I don't know how often I can do that any more."

"I see you now, love." Chris wrapped his arm around Tom's shoulders and pulled him close. "Tom, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

"See that's what happens when you crack me," Tom said, his eyes full of tears. "All this muck comes spilling out."

Chris kissed his forehead. He'd run out of words. "Do you still believe in us?" he asked.

Under tears, Tom nodded.

"Okay then. Then it doesn't matter, Tom. I want to be here for you, and I want to listen to you. But." He looked lovingly at Tom. "No questioning each other's love or devotion."

"Okay." Tom nodded.

"I promised I'd always be back for more, no matter what."

"And I promised you'd never have to doubt that I love." Tom blew out a long breath. "Thank you."

"Hm?"

"For showing me a way out."

"Thank you for not giving up on me when I went astray," Chris said. "Thank you for showing me the way out when I couldn't find it."

Tom quietly looked at him, his hand cupping Chris' cheek. "I guess we're both the same, huh?" he finally said.

"Not perfect?" Chris asked. "I beg to differ. I think you are."

"I think you're not that bad, either," Tom offered.

Chris leaned over him and they kissed. Chris could clearly feel Tom's heart beat in his chest. The idea that Tom could do the same made him smile. "No giving up on each other," he said.

"No giving up on each other," Tom repeated. "I promise."


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spaghetti, meatballs & shenanigans. Plus tears by the sea with a good outcome. Yes, I really do suck at summaries. *sigh*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, your comments have blown me away! I'm sitting here with my flu-addled brain and don't know what to say. I'm going to answer each one, I promise. Just had a few days with doctor's visits and then the muse had a go at this story, and things just flowed, so that took precedence.
> 
> Thank you so much, though. <3 You have no idea what a boost it is to hear that my writing makes a difference in your lives. Best TLC there is. xxx

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

They went to fix dinner, but Chris insisted that Tom couldn't do anything and let him handle it. He packed him into the comfortable chair in the kitchen, wrapped him in a snuggly blanket and got him some wine.

Tom's only – cheeky – request was that Chris cook in nothing but an apron.

Chris waggled his brows at him and took off his shirt, at least, before putting on the apron.

Tom leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the view of Chris' well-developed muscles working as he cut the onions and tomatoes and started the sauce. He started drooling when Chris rolled the meatballs and requested Chris come over for a kiss – which Chris did. Tom felt very, very randy, kissing the living daylights out of his magnificent boyfriend while running his hands appreciatively up and down his muscled arms and shoulders. Only the pasta water boiling over saved Chris from being ravished right then and there. He had to hurry over to the pot and lift the cover to prevent further messes. While he was there, he noticed that the sauce needed more water, and after that, he was already deep inside the minced meat bowl and started rolling meatballs again.

Tom dipped a finger into his wine and sucked it off, having some very, very wicked thoughts about Chris. When the meatballs were boiling in the sauce, he beckoned Chris closer once more.

He asked him to kneel.

Chris did, beaming at him expectantly. Tom spent quite a bit of time kissing him properly, pulling the hairband off his bun and messing up Chris' hair. Rather sooner than later, Tom sat in his lap and cheekily pulled the apron down enough to expose Chris' nipples. Under his lover's watchful – and thoroughly amused – eyes, Tom dipped a drop of wine on each one and then bent to suck it off, repeating the action until Chris' eyes were shiny and his breath a lot more labored than it had been before.

"I need to stir," he said, his voice rough.

"Bring back the olive oil," Tom suggested, waggling his brows.

Chris laughed. "Not until after dinner." He kissed Tom's nose.

"Spoilsport." Tom heaved himself back into the chair and let Chris go. He had to content without him for a moment longer because Chris started the fire in the living room, and Tom was honestly too lazy to get up and watch him do it. When Chris came back, there was a light sheen of sweat on his still naked shoulders. "Chris...?" Tom said suggestively.

"Hm?" Chris' lips were pursed over the spoon he used to taste the sauce.

"Can I watch you split logs for the fire tomorrow?"

Chris nearly spit the sauce. "Let me guess," he said after he'd recovered. "In my apron?"

Tom shrugged modestly.

Chris shook his head, chuckling, then went over to Tom and knelt between his legs once more. "Come here," he said, and scooped up Tom to sit in his lap again.

Tom enjoyed just being held, Chris' fingers gently rubbing his back. "I love you," he said softly.

"Love you, too."

"I love playing with you," Tom said.

"You get to play with me all you want," Chris said, his voice deep in his chest. "After dinner." He smiled at him. "You would not believe how hungry I am." Chris crinkled his nose and then dipped Tom into a romantically exaggerated kiss.

Tom scrabbled for a hold on Chris' back and wrapped his legs around Chris' hips. He realized right that moment that Chris was very hard, his erection hidden under his apron. He moaned in reaction, his own arousal mounting exponentially.

"Bad move," Chris murmured.

"Oh, no. Very good move." Tom strained into the contact, finding Chris' nibbling along his neck, his beard magnifying the sensation tenfold.

"No quickies, babe," Chris warned.

"And if you could...?" Tom wanted to know.

Chris held his breath for a moment. "You, me, olive oil, both cocks in my hand," he whispered harshly into Tom's ear.

"Ooooooh."

" _After dinner_ ," Chris emphasized.

Tom giggled. "Okay."

 

Chris had cooked enough spaghetti to last a small army. Tom had two good helpings, topped off with the delicious tomato sauce and meatballs, but Chris polished off four. After, he cleaned the sides of the pot with his fingers. Tom was too full with spaghetti to find it arousing to watch Chris suck tomato sauce off his fingers. That didn't speak too well for a little bout in the sack after dinner and indeed, when they both repaired to the sofa in front of the fire, spooning their ice cream ("It'll melt into the cracks", Chris had said), they were on opposite ends, too full to enjoy body contact.

Finished with their dessert, Chris groaned mightily and patted his belly. "I needed that."

"Pasta coma," Tom said. "Ungh."

Chris laughed, and tickled Tom with his big toe. "Sorry."

Tom waved it off. "No, no, it was delicious and I was more hungry than I thought. It was perfect."

"I'd actually enjoy watching a movie or something right now," Chris yawned. "I feel too full to talk."

"Want to zap through the channels?" Tom offered. The barn was equipped with a TV and DVD player. "Sorry, I didn't bring any movies."

"We'd just be getting back to the hotel now if we'd gone to Oxford," Chris said, turning on his back. "There wouldn't have been time to watch anything."

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Tom asked, getting comfortable against the arm rest, so he could see Chris' face.

Chris had propped his head on his crossed arms behind his head. "I would've enjoyed going up to Oxford, too," he admitted.

"You're not much for seclusion, huh?" Tom asked.

Chris shrugged. "I don't much care as long as I get to do it with you," he said. "But we're here because you weren't feeling well, and that's never a good start."

Tom nodded. "TV?" he asked.

Chris mustered him. "Why did you want to go to Oxford?"

Tom sighed. "I thought you were to tired to talk?"

"I'm just asking questions, you're talking," Chris grinned, his foot stroking along Tom's side soothingly. "And yeah, we need to go do something tomorrow."

"We're ten minutes from the sea, we could go on a long walk?" Tom suggested.

"Do they have boat rides?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, but I thought we might want to do that with India on Sunday?" Tom said. "Do you think she'd enjoy that?"

"Yes." Chris smiled.

"Other than that, I was looking forward to sleeping in, a long breakfast with you, and going back to bed with you, but if that's too boring..."

"Hey." Chris sat up and then ended up on all fours over Tom, rubbing noses with him. "Being in bed with you is never boring."

"Heh." Tom waggled his brows. "Besides, you promised to split logs in your apron..."

Chris laughed out loud. "I didn't promise any such thing."

"Pleeeeeaaaaase?" Tom tugged at his lover's shirt.

"You have such a dirty, dirty mind," Chris said appreciatively.

"I have a very, very hot boyfriend," Tom said no less appreciatively. "You'll have to lose that bulk eventually. I want to enjoy every moment I have with it."

"Hmmm," Chris made, kissing him.

Tom pushed Chris off laughingly when he tried to lie down on top of him. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I'm still too full for sex. I think I might explode if you tried to lie down on top of me."

Chris pouted.

"You were the one who wanted sex after dinner," Tom accused him, his eyes laughing. "You could've had it earlier."

"I was too hungry."

"Uh-huh, I noticed." Tom kissed him quickly on the lips and scooted up into a sitting position. "Come here, honey." Chris settled against his side and Tom wrapped him into his arms. "Channel hopping, and then we'll see what we're up to?"

"Okay." Chris settled down across his lap. "Rub my tummy, please?"

"Does it hurt?"

Chris nodded. "I think I ate too much."

Tom just laughed.

 

* * *

 

Tom was successful in skirting the topic of his difficulties until after the next morning's breakfast. Too full and too tired to do much, they had ended up falling asleep in front of the TV, which had never happened since they had come together. Concluding that feeling completely at ease and secure with each other was at the bottom of this new development, Tom was happy to curl up in Chris' arms as they relocated to bed at 2 am, and simply fall asleep, knowing that things were good and safe between them.

He awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon the next morning, stretching luxuriously. The space beside him wasn't occupied and not even warm any more, indicating that Chris had got up much sooner, but he simply curled up around the duvet and inhaled Chris' smell still clinging to the pillow. He pretended to be still asleep when Chris sidled up with him not too much later, spooning behind him and nuzzling against his cheek.

"Breakfast is ready," he murmured in Tom's ear.

"Hmmmm," Tom made. "What's the time?"

"9 am, honey."

Tom smiled and turned in the embrace. "You must be starving."

"Not so much that I don't have time for this," Chris rumbled in his chest, kissing Tom slowly.

Tom grinned. "You've already had some bacon."

"I was hungry," Chris defended himself. "And I wanted you to have your sleep."

"When did you wake up?" Tom asked, tracing his lover's features with his fingertips.

"Seven," Chris said truthfully.

"Honey, you could've..."

"No, no, I wanted you to get as much rest as you could," Chris insisted. "Nine was my cutoff time, though." He kissed Tom's palm. "I hope you'll forgive me?"

"Is there a strong cup of coffee?" Tom asked.

"As many as you like," Chris promised.

 

Breakfast was nice. The sun had come out and filled the kitchen with light, and Chris' breakfast skills were nothing to spit at. He'd thought of everything: Tom's favorite pancakes, the fact that he liked his coffee strong, and how brown the toast needed to be with the eggs and bacon, both of which were just right.

After, there was a perfect cup of tea and a few fruit to nibble on, the way Tom liked it. And all through the meal, he knew that Chris was preoccupied with something, so he wasn't too surprised when afterwards, Chris cleaned up the table and then sat down with him, with his own cup of tea, his stockinged feet on the support rungs of Tom's chair.

They stirred in silence for a while, giving Tom ample time to arrive in the moment, and to wonder what he should say.

"I worry," Chris finally opened. "And I couldn't stay in bed because I was worrying, I'm sorry."

"What about?"

"You and India," Chris said truthfully.

Tom just nodded.

"How are we going to start?" Chris asked. "Do you want to tell my why you wanted to go to Oxford yesterday?"

It was so ironic that now that Chris was there and willing to listen, Tom had a hard time finding the right words. "I'm worried," he said. "That my experiences as a child will keep coloring how I approach India. I sometimes don't know if I identify more with her or more... more with being a step-parent."

"More with India, I'm guessing," Chris said.

Tom shrugged. "Probably."

"When you do that, are you angry with me for breaking up with Elsa?" Chris asked.

Tom shook his head. "I'm angry with myself for being such a poor substitute."

Chris blew out a breath and looked troubled as he stared into his tea.

Tom felt wretched.

"Is it because you felt Fred and Vicky were such poor substitutes for you Mum and Dad?" Chris ventured.

"Fred came much later, when we were all already away at school," Tom said. "My mum wasn't in a new relationship until six years after my parents had split up."

"How did he treat you?"

"He had his own family, and we were all kind of treated the same. His children are older than me and my sisters, though," Tom said. "He would be away at the weekends with his daughters a lot. It kind of worked out."

"And Vicky?"

Tom played with his spoon. "She was responsible for my father breaking up with my mum," he said quietly. "So of course we all hated her."

"Do you think India will hate you because you broke Elsa and me up?" Chris asked.

Tom just nodded, without looking at Chris.

"How old were you when your parents broke up?"

"Twelve."

"What do you think India will remember about all of this?"

It was a genuine question, Tom could see that.

"I don't know, Chris, just... you and Elsa won't be together when she grows up."

"No." Chris sighed "But you know, I still want India to grow up with both of us around. Maybe not at the same time, but we'll both be in her lives."

Tom nodded. "My mum and dad tried the same," he said. "They had conferences and hashed out what needed to be hashed out about us kids and then presented a united front, despite their differences. I think I've been very lucky when it comes to that."

"Even about the divorce?"

"Especially about the divorce," Tom said. "They were parents to us, with varying degrees of success, I mean, we all had to adjust and find what worked and what didn't. But my dad was still very much my dad, and the same about my mum."

"Would you recommend Elsa and I do the same?"

"Yeah." Tom inclined his head. "Are you asking my advice?"

Chris shrugged. "Might as well," he said. "You're the only one with first-hand experience about this kind of thing, sad as it is."

"Hm."

"I just think we wouldn't do India any favors by feeling guilty that we're together," Chris ventured. "Regardless of what you and I come to identify as down the road, I would always want her to follow her heart. If she's straight, okay, if she's gay, fine. I want her to grow into the person she is, and be proud of it and know she's loved for it, Tom, no matter what road it takes her to get there."

It touched him. "Yeah."

"You and I, we fell in love, and I still think that's a good thing. I don't want her to grow up and think that you and I being together is wrong."

"I don't think she will," Tom said. "Even Elsa has never said anything about that, has she?"

Chris shook his head. "No. But you see, I think if you hadn't grown up with your Dad trying to make you into something that he wanted, instead of who you are, we might have fallen in love sooner and..."

"… and no India, Chris."

"I want her to grow up strong and full of trust in her own emotions," Chris said. "No life is without problems, but I think it's manageable when you have people around who love and support you."

"Yeah." In the end, Tom realized, he'd always had someone, his mother and Evie, and now, his father and Sannah. He wasn't alone, even when things in his family weren't easy.

"And India is going to have plenty. My whole tribe is going to rally around her, and Elsa's family is also extensive, and I want her to know them and spend time with all of them. But I also want her to have a home with us, with you and me."

Tom sighed. "And I'm not coming through."

"It's not that. I know how excited you were to have her with us. You've supported me every step of the way when it came to talking to Elsa about her, and making sure we communicate. That's why I didn't catch on in the beginning, Tom. I didn't know there was a problem. And now I'm trying to understand what it is."

"She's adorable, Chris, but she isn't my child."

"And do you think she cares about that when you read her a bedtime story, or feed her, or play games with her?"

Tom wanted to point out how upset she'd been with him that first night, but in his heart of hearts he knew it could have happened to anyone else. She'd been tired and overstimulated, and in those situations, you wanted someone you knew, who was familiar and knew what you needed. And that would come, most certainly. With every moment they'd spend together, they'd get to know each other better, and they'd get more familiar, and things would be much easier.

"I guess not," he finally said.

"Hey." Chris reached over and took his hand. "I'm not trying to put words in your mouth. I want to understand."

"What if I'm so broken that understanding won't change it?" Tom asked. "I'm sure I can take care of her nonetheless."

"Babe, it's not going to work that way," Chris said, placing a sad kiss on Tom's knuckles. "Kids are perceptive, and India and I are invading your space. If you're not comfortable, it's not going to work."

"Are you threatening to move out if I don't get a grip on this?"

"No." Chris sighed. "That's not what I meant at all."

They sat quietly, and Tom's emotions had a chance to calm down. "I'm sorry," he finally said softly. "I'm trying, Chris, I really am."

"I know." But he looked so, so worried.

 

* * *

 

They wrapped up in their jackets and took out towards the sea. The weather was fair and there was always a chance they would be recognized, but they both needed the exercise, and Chris loved the water. Tom's packing had not included two sets of exercise wear and it was too cold to go barefoot. So they donned caps and sunglasses against the glaring sun and set out to walk along the shore.

It was peaceful and had them work quite hard at the same time, both of them opting to get a bit of a workout by walking in the deeper sand. Tom frantically tried to figure out what had gone wrong, and what to say as they leaned into the wind. He'd been upset about Chris not listening for the whole week, and especially last weekend, and now he couldn't get it together, and he drove himself crazy trying to figure it out.

Chris left him alone for the first hour, deep in thought, himself. The coastal path lead them away from the shore and they were climbing up and down the dunes for a bit, which put both of them in a better mood. Chris finally put his arm around Tom and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Hm?" They'd turned a corner and there was no one ahead, but Tom still checked nervously.

"You asked me to spend the day with you and here I am, working on something completely different," Chris said. "I didn't mean to spoil your day."

"I begged you to talk with me about this for a full week," Tom said regretfully. "And now I can't get it together, so..." He shrugged. "Tell me what you think."

"Tell my why you wanted to see Vicky," Chris replied, instead.

Tom sighed, his fists deep in his pockets. He walked over to a wave breaker leading into the blueish green sea. Chris followed him, and they each took a seat on the dark wood. Tom leaned forward on his knees and stared sightlessly into the gentle waves. Chris left him be for a while, and then his hand found a rest on Tom's back.

"Vicky and I have never had a good relationship," Tom finally said. "I wanted to know if it was because I didn't want anything to do with her from the get-go, or if it was really something she'd done."

"What do you think which it is?" Chris asked.

"I'm afraid it was me not accepting her from the get-go," Tom said. "She was the intruder, she was taking my father away, she was breaking apart my family. And I blamed her for keeping my father away from me for a long time. I blamed her for him not staying in contact as often as I would have liked."

"Do you want to change that? Do you want her around more now?" Chris asked.

Tom shrugged. "Now that my mum and Evie aren't talking with me, and he is making the effort, I guess I'll see them both more often," he said. "Might as well try to make good weather."

"Why do you think it made you so anxious to go there?"

Tom laughed. "I knew it would be the way it always was," he said. "And that nothing would've changed."

"Why were you going, then?"

"To give me a chance, and to give you and India a chance. And my father, I guess."

"And what would've been the same?"

"Vicky being the center of his world and him completely oblivious that I need him, too."

"That sounds like your Dad did a crap job," Chris said bluntly.

"See, you do that for your daughter. You try to get me on board and involve me and I'm not one iota better than Vicky ever was. Here I am, and I keep telling you that India isn't my child, and I'm difficult and skittish and have problems with everything. I can only imagine what it must've been like for Vicky."

"But you're not Vicky, and I'm not your Dad," Chris pointed out. "And India is just one child, and she's only six months old."

Tom gave him a pained look. "I guess it's really hard to get rid of your demons," he said.

"But as much as it pains me, you're right, she isn't yours," Chris said. "And maybe I'm wrong to expect you'll feel about her the way I do at some point."

"I can't, I'm not her Dad," Tom said. "I'm sure I will love her as much as I can, but in the end, you and Elsa are the ones who will make the decisions about her life."

"I'll always ask you."

"And when Elsa figures that out, do you really think she'll go along with it?" Tom asked. "I don't think so."

"I have a little girl who will come to live with us, and she needs all the love she can get," Chris said. "She'll be confused and scared about all the changes, and she'll miss her mommy a lot. She'll have to get used to yet another schedule, and we may have to think about another sitter or care for the times that we're both busy. It's going to be so hard for her, Tom."

"It's going to be hard for me, too."

There was a moment of silence as both digested what had just been said.

"Babe?" Chris leaned forward so he could speak directly in Tom's ear, and his hand came up to rest against the back of Tom's neck. "Are you afraid that when India comes to live with us, I'm going to have less time for you?"

It was so stupid. So juvenile. And yet Tom's eyes immediately filled with tears. He didn't say anything, but his head was suddenly flooded with images of them fighting, so hard, this past weekend, when Chris' mind had been filled with nothing but Elsa and India, and how to make everything perfect for them. How lonely and isolated he'd suddenly felt, as if he was playing a supporting role in his own life, as if the weeks that Chris had been by his side to be there for him had suddenly been completely forgotten, had never existed.

He felt Chris scoot closer, place another kiss against his temple, and they just sat there, Tom trying so hard to keep his tears in check, because he knew how silly it all was. He was a grown man, after all. And yet, the times after times in which he'd been told in his life that he was old enough to know better, to not make such a fuss because he was now a young man, he was going to Eton, after all, he was already thirteen, he'd be fine... and he never had been. He'd learned that he was expected to shut up about how he felt because it was inconvenient, but the hole in his heart had never been filled or recognized.

Until Chris.

He finally gave up, leaning his head against Chris', tears streaming down his face from under his shades, sniffling very undignified.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm not." Chris found a tissue in his pocket and handed it to Tom. "Well I am, but not about you crying."

"I'm an idiot."

"No."

"I should know better, Chris. I'm not ten years old any more. I should be ready to care for India and not … not feel like _this_."

Chris entwined his hand with Tom's and kept it in his lap. They didn't talk for a while, giving Tom time to collect himself.

"You've told me all that last week, didn't you?" Chris said.

"Hm?"

"You'd been waiting for me to have time for you to talk, and I never did. I gave you all the reason you needed to be worried and you've been shutting down about India since."

"It's hard not to."

"Yeah." Chris rubbed the back of Tom's hand with his thumb. "I get it now."

"I've just never had... this. I'm not ready yet to let it go."

"This?"

"Someone... you just understand me, Chris. You're... you never make fun of me. Well, you do, but not when it counts. If you hadn't... been so... understanding, that first night, I mean... this would never have happened. None of it."

"I gave you a promise that night, huh?"

"I thought you had."

"While we're at heartbreaking confessions; the reason I'm head over heels with you is because you are like that."

"Screwed up?"

"Delicate." Chris gave him a besotted look. "I love everything about it." The moment hung between them like spun glass, their eyes locked. "I don't want to lose it, either."

"Why?"

"Because no one else speaks with me like that, either, Tom. And I need it like I need air."

"Why do you think you shut down like that last week?"

"Because it hurt too much to be open."

"Okay." For the very first time, Tom was able to feel sympathy for just how confused and under pressure Chris had been the previous week. He scooted even closer and pressed Chris' hand.

"When I shut you out, I shut myself out," Chris said. "Then listening to what I'm feeling is too dangerous, I guess, so... I stomp it out."

"That's not why you're with me, though."

"No." Chris gave a dry laugh. "I had plenty of that with Elsa."

"Kind of explains last week, doesn't it?" Tom said softly. For the first time in seven days, he felt as if that unbearable weight of not understanding what had gone wrong lifted. "You had plenty of Elsa last week."

Chris gave a short nod.

"I should have never left you on your own after your first counseling, I'm sorry."

"We had no idea what it would be like," Chris said.

"Still."

"Should we just conclude that we need each other more than we thought?"

"Is it more than just the amazing sex, you mean?" Tom asked, giving Chris a lopsided smile.

"Do we?" Chris asked, staying with his original thought.

After a split moment of hesitation, Tom gave a short nod. "It's scary. It's easier to think I could just walk away."

"Please don't."

"But I need... this," Tom said, and looked imploringly at Chris. " _This_."

"I do, too." Chris leaned over and kissed Tom, a very simple, reassuring kiss. In the distance, they heard a couple of kids squeal.

"Have we been discovered?" Tom asked, but followed up with another kiss anyway, eager not to lose this connection with Chris. He felt Chris yield to him, becoming soft and pliable to his touch, a completely different facet of him, so different from his usual happy-go-lucky attitude. "Can I admit something?"

"Yeah?" Even Chris' voice had become softer.

"I love this side of you, too."

"Which side?" Chris murmured, seemingly lost in Tom's eyes.

Tom stroked a finger along the side of Chris' face. "The one that no one else ever gets to see." He couldn't help it, he followed up with yet another kiss, the connection between them so deep it seemed to yank at all of his heartstrings at once. "God, how I love you."

A male voice was speaking to the children now, and Tom concluded, sadly, that they were at a too exposed place to continue this. "Time to pack up," he whispered into Chris' ear. "Let's walk back the way we came."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Tom's confession at the beach, things change between him and Chris. Chris is making a trip to London to pick up India, and Tom finds himself confronted with some unexpected emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in this story. I've never had such a hard time letting go of a story before! It's been by far the one I worked hardest on in my life. I know it's not always been perfect as I was trying a lot of things I've never dared trying before. But all of your encouragement, cheering and occasional jeering (especially in the middle chapters) has turned this into an adventure I would not have wanted to miss!
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for reading and being along for the ride! <3
> 
> Until next time!

The way back from the beach was markedly different from their way in. Grey clouds started to roll in and threatened to spill over with rain, and a wind came up and had them work harder as it blew in from the sea. But the weather also seemed to blow away people's desire to be at the beach, so they had mostly clear shores, and Tom held Chris' hand in his and didn't let go.

For most of the week, he'd felt somehow deficient and vulnerable, unable to keep up with the pace of Chris' life, and unfit to rise to the challenge that it would pose, wondering, while throwing himself wholeheartedly at what each situation required of him, if he would ever be able to catch up, or keep up the pace. It had taken so much effort to create the moments that had them connect. And this, this wasn't hard at all. It was completely effortless and beautiful.

They'd walked out quite a ways, a good one and a half hours, and it took them about the same time to get back. The feeling between them didn't waver, and they needed no words. Whenever Tom's eyes met Chris', the quiet joy he felt was reflected in them, the gentle regard that he had so yearned for poured over his soul like warm honey. But even better; Chris seemed to soak him up just the same way. Tom thought they must radiate happiness in such dense waves that if someone saw them from afar, they must beam iridescently like angels.

Unsurprisingly, the moment they came in through the mudroom and shed their jackets and shoes, they were kissing, and neither one of them could have said who had started it, just that it was so necessary to be together.

"Aren't you hungry?" Tom manged to murmur.

"I need this more," Chris said. "I need you more."

"I need some hot tea, love," Tom smiled. "We both need to warm up."

Amazingly, once the tea was on the table, so were another pack of toasted scones and spreads. They ate quietly, smiling at each other when their eyes connected. While Tom cleaned off the table, Chris built another fire in the living room fireplace and that's where they met a moment later, on the sofa under a blanket, stretched out against each other.

"What time do you need to leave for India?" Tom murmured, finding the press of Chris' body against his own divine.

"I still have about two hours," Chris said. "I timed it, it should take me about an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Becky's."

"Traffic shouldn't be so bad on a Saturday afternoon," Tom said. "Do you want me to come along?"

"Do you want to?"

Tom shook his head. "Are you two going to be okay?"

"We should be." Chris pressed him closer and kissed him. "Promise me something, though?"

"Hm?"

"Don't call Vicky and your Dad while I'm away."

"Why?" It was a little eerie that Chris had guessed correctly at what Tom had planned on doing.

Chris brushed his hand through Tom's hair. "I had a bad feeling about you going to Oxford from the start," he explained patiently. "I want to be there when you talk to them."

"Okay." Tom ducked his head to hide a little smile. "I'll wait."

And then Chris kissed him properly, the kind of kiss that could only escalate into making love, and Tom was very happy to return it.

"When you're with me like this, I don't worry about a thing," he confided in Chris. "I feel so close to... oh... you."

"Out of that jumper", Chris urged. "I need to feel you."

Curbing the preliminaries, they were naked within five seconds, and both groaned when their bodies met, their skin seeming to throw off sparks

"Oh my god," Tom gasped. His whole body poured itself into Chris' caress along his back, into his kiss. "Hell, if I was a woman I'd be pregnant by now."

It made Chris chuckle. "That would make things so much easier, wouldn't it," he murmured.

"We could give it a try." Needing to feel Chris, he lead his lover's cock between his legs. "Give it your best shot."

Chris rolled him on his back and they had to adjust a little because the sofa wasn't as wide as a bed. It aided them in their effort in that it created a hollow in the cushions, making it easy for Tom to keep his legs closed, especially with Chris' thighs pressed tightly around his.

Chris made him feel like a million bucks, his lips brushing over his own, breathing into him, his powerful body suspended over him. The sexual energy between them was off the charts; such a simple position sending uncontrollable shivers of arousal over both of them. Chris slowly started to move over him, both of them gasping at the sensation. There was no lube, but it didn't seem to matter. Within a few strokes, Chris had produced enough precome to make the passage easier, and the way his hands worked between Tom's legs to spread it made Tom nearly arch off the sofa.

He was so ready for Chris to come back between his legs. A bit of shifting had his tip brush along Tom's perineum with each thrust, both gasping and groaning at the added sensation. Chris went very slowly, giving one thrust and halt, then retreating and very slowly thrusting in again, but it was as if that made it even worse.

Tom found himself keening with Chris' next retreat, arching into his' body, desperate to keep in contact with him. Chris shifted his position, his hand gripping Tom's ass, lifting him into the next thrust. All Tom could do was hang on for dear life. Chris stayed in this time, just moving them both with his hips in gentle but very insistent strokes. The effect was incredible as Tom's perineum was stimulated constantly now, and his cock profited from Chris' very well developed stomach muscles working against it.

"I want on top," he panted. "Let me be on top."

They managed with a bit of shifting. Chris wrapped his legs around Tom's, keeping them tightly closed, and Tom had full control over the stimulation he received between his legs and against his cock by the way he moved. He laid out the thrusts, and Chris met them, making it in effect feel as if they were both inside each other.

"Oh my god, this is going to be it," Tom wheezed. "Chris, this is going to be it." He rolled his pelvis forward and pressed, feeling Chris' cock move between his legs, his own cock so close to spilling the suspense nearly hurt. With the next thrust and press, it was over, his whole body was whipped forward with the force of his orgasm, and Chris thrusting urgently between his legs to get there, himself, did not help one bit. He felt Chris pump and spill, coating the inside of his legs as he arched under Tom, his head thrown back in complete abandon as he cried out his climax. They moved together, panting, forcing out every last drop of seed, and then kept moving with each other until Chris' cock slipped from between Tom's legs.

Completely spent, Tom collapsed on Chris' chest, panting, the aftershocks rippling along his nerve endings and making him moan helplessly in reaction. "If that didn't do the trick, I don't know what will," Tom wheezed.

Chris gave a tired chuckle. "You think it took?" he asked, his voice just a raw rumble.

"Time will tell." Tom raised a tired hand, which immediately fell down again. "Good lord."

They were both too spent to do anything. Tom felt like one of those cooked spaghetti they had had last night, and he was happy to just drool on Chris' chest as they both slowly recovered. He felt so calm, so secure, so protected. Sighing happily, he squeezed his arms around Chris’ torso and snuggled himself in.

Of course they fell asleep. And of course, when Chris woke up, it was high time for him to leave for India. There was no time to talk as he cleaned up quickly, jumped into his clothes and grabbed the car keys.

“Drive safely,” Tom said, kissing him out the door. “I love you.”

“I’ll call you when we’re on the way back,” Chris said.

“I’ll have dinner ready,” Tom said.

They both chuckled.

“Horridly domestic,” Tom said. “We should do something about that.”

“What, you mean we’re uncool? I’m okay with that.” Chris kissed him a last time. “To be continued.” He gave Tom a meaningful look. "I'm not finished with you yet."

“Okay.” Tom had the growing suspicion that his expression was still fairly out of this world. “Hurry back.”

No ten minutes had gone by when Tom’s mobile rang. It was Chris.

Smiling, Tom picked up. "Hey," he said. "Forgot something?"

"No," Chris said. "Just made it to the motorway. I miss you."

Tom flopped onto the sofa, happiness blooming in his chest. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." He could hear Chris smile. "We didn't get to talk any more," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Tom sighed happily. "I've had a perfect day so far."

There was a short pause. "Am I going to ruin it by bringing home India?" Chris asked haltingly.

Tom took his time with his answer, even though he knew that Chris was probably biting his nails waiting for it. 

"Chris, the longer this is going on, the more I'm sure there isn’t a quick solution to all of this," he finally said. "It's all going  _ so fast _ ."

"But she's coming home with me  _ today _ ," Chris urged.  "God knows I wish we all had more time to adjust to everything, but India is coming home with me today, and I don't know what to do  to make it right! "

"What do you want me to do?" Tom asked. He understood Chris predicament, but each time Chris started urging him about India, he felt his stomach contract with worry.

"Love her," Chris said, sounding desperate.

Tom closed his eyes. Every fiber of his being wanted to assure Chris that it would be okay, that they would make it work. That of course he would treat India like she was his own. But he’d been there, he’d tried so hard – and what he’d learned was that he couldn’t leave himself, and his history, behind. And as much as he wanted it to be different, as much as he wanted to just to be whole for Chris, he couldn't. He'd already tried that, too, and it had left him stranded panicking on a motorway in the middle of the day. 

And then he realized, he didn't want to keep pretending he had everything under control, either, not after today. He was just starting to understand that it was his history that had shaped him into the person Chris had fallen in love with, that the moment he was daring to be vulnerable, he gave Chris something he deeply craved. He couldn't go back on that.

So he gathered all his courage and dared to be vulnerable and honest one more time.

"You can't force these things," he said, his voice rough. "You can't." 

He listened intently to Chris breathing, hoping he had dared right. Hoping that he had understood what Chris had told him at the beach; that when he shut Tom out, he shut himself out, that if he pressured Tom into making it right for him, he was just afraid to face just how vulnerable he felt, himself.

Chris was quiet for quite a very long while, working Tom’s words over in his head. 

"You know," he finally said. "I guess I already knew that."

Relief washed over Tom's prone form. "Yeah?"

"It would just... make it easier," Chris said. "If you could just love her the way I do, I could make myself believe... it's not so bad for her."

"But it is, isn't it?" Tom asked.

"Yeah. If she had two Dads I could think I didn't take her family away from her."

"Maybe at some point she will," Tom soothed. "You never know what's going to happen."

"In your experience?" Chris asked.

"It's never the same," Tom said truthfully. "You have Mum and Dad, and you have Vicky and Fred. Maybe it'll be different for her because she's still so very small. But she'll still be shuttled between Elsa and us. It doesn't mean that we're not going to love her, or that she won't have a home with us..."

"… but it will still be two homes."

"Yes." Tom could hear Chris draw a shuddering breath. "I think we were both trying to fool ourselves into thinking love would solve all our problems," he thought out loud. "That if we just loved each other hard enough, everything would be okay."

"Isn't it?"

"It is right now for me," Tom said and smiled. "I love you very much, Chris, and you make me very happy."

"Love you, too."

"Still doesn't make my history go away," Tom said wistfully.

Chris drew a quick breath. "Still doesn't make me breaking up a family to have you go away, either."

"No," Tom said regretfully. "And all the problems that come with that fact. For both of us."

"Damn, I wish I wasn't in a car right now. I want to just be where you are."

"Mind the traffic, honey," Tom cautioned. "You'll be home again soon."

"I need that wisdom," Chris went on just as intensely. "I need you to keep telling me these things."

"All right." It felt good, after all that strife, to hear that his way of looking at things was valued.

"And I'll keep loving the stuffing out of you whether India is in the picture or not," Chris said.

It made Tom smile. "Okay," he said softly.

"Will you let me?" Chris asked.

Tom let his words flow over him. 

"Yes," he said, daring one more time, just jumping right into it. "I know I'll stumble on the way, but I will."

  
  


* * *

  
  


It had already turned dark by the time Chris came back. They'd talked on the phone a little more, and Chris had let him know when he left at Becky's with India, but then he'd been busy soothing a distraught child while navigating the way home, and Tom had got to work getting dinner ready for a – he supposed – very hungry Chris and himself.

Chris brought with him a rush of cold air when he came in, and a very sad child.

"Oh no, what happened?" Tom asked, instinctively holding out his arms for the baby to give Chris a chance to get out of his coat. India just toppled against his warm shoulder and he hugged her in reflex as she let herself be comforted. "Hey India," he said softly. "What's wrong, little girl?"

"I think she knows Elsa's gone," Chris said, putting down India's bag. "She's been asking for her the whole way back." He took off his coat and put it away, then came back to kiss Tom properly and enveloped both of them in one huge hug. "I can take her if you want?"

"No, no," Tom found himself say. "It's no bother, I can hold her." His protective instincts had kicked in full force in the face of so much sadness. India was cuddling into him, so she obviously wanted to be with him. He stroked over her head and kissed her, holding her close.

"She's probably tired and hungry, too," Chris said. "Dinner smells great, by the way."

"It should be done in about ten minutes," Tom said. "I put the chicken in the oven after you left at Becky's."

Chris shivered. "Is there any tea?"

"There's still some in my cup, if you like?" Tom said.

"I'll brew some," Chris said. "I can do India's bottle at the same time."

"Okay." Tom was somewhat preoccupied with the warm weight on his arm. "I'm going to get us a blanket, be right back."

He carried India into the living room, narrating their journey as they went along. "Look, India, we're away on holiday," he said. "We're going to go on a boat and see the sea and the waves and the beach tomorrow." He grabbed a blanket and walked back into the kitchen. "And maybe we'll see a seal, who knows?" he said, as he sat down on a chair with her. He unfolded the blanket and then settled it around India, knowing she must still be cold. "Would that be fun, what do you think, hm?"

India snuggled against him, her little hand holding the edge of the blanket. Tom didn't know what was happening, but his heart did all kinds of funny things, jumping all over the place and constricting his throat. India was so small, and it was so unlike her to be so sad. Tom felt his heart reach out to her, whether he wanted it to or not.

She eventually started to fidget, and he helped her out of her little coat and booties. Satisfied that he had recognized her need, she settled down against him again, but pointed at Chris while looking at Tom. "Da!"

"Is Daddy fixing your bottle?" Tom  asked . He must have guessed right, because she let her arm drop, pleased that he had understood what she wanted to say. "Are you hungry, hm?"

She gave him a quick look from under her fair-haired brows and then went back to leaning into him, looking for comfort,  and he kept rocking her and holding her close.

He only came out of his trance when Chris put a fresh cup of tea in front of him  and sat down opposite  him , scooting the chair closer so he could mesh his legs with Tom's.

" All done," he said softly. "I turned off the oven and the bottle needs to cool off a bit."

Tom nodded, not wanting to give up the baby.

Chris gave him a warm smile. "Do you want to  give it to her ?"

"If she lets me?"

"Doesn't look like she's going to budge," Chris teased gently. "She looks good on you."

"I'm so sorry she's feeling so bad," Tom said.

Chris sighed. "Becky said that they tried to pretend Elsa was just going to be gone for a short time, but India caught on pretty quickly that she would be left behind."

"Did she cry?"

Chris nodded. "But we basically did a baby swap when I got to Becky's house. They arrived from the airport while I was waiting."

"I'm sure she was glad to see you."

"She fell asleep for a bit in the car, but  I didn't let her for  too long. I don't want her to be up all night," Chris said.

"So she's hungry, sad,  _ and _ tired," Tom said. "Poor baby." He placed a kiss on top her soft tuft of hair.

"I'm going to take a bath with her later, that always cheers her up." Chris said. "Do you want to come along?"

"I'm not sitting naked in the tub with her!" Tom protested.

Chris winked. "Your loss." Then he sobered. "Or should I bathe her, and we take a bath together later?"

"Does it make her happy to play with Daddy in the tub?"

"Very."

"Then that's fine with me," Tom assured him. "I'll take a shower and we can all pile up on the sofa together, all smelling nice and clean."

Chris got up and leaned over him, kissing him softly, then plac ed a kiss on India's head. He got the bottle for the baby, checking its temperature and handed it to Tom. "Here you go."

As soon as India saw the bottle, she started flailing, then quickly got into  an  expectant position and opened her mouth. She started sucking immediately and then gave a little sigh of content. Her left hand covered Tom's as if she wanted to make sure he would not take the bottle away.

"Someone's hungry," Tom said softly.

"Don't let her fall asleep," Chris cautioned. "Or she'll be up all night."

"Yes, Chris."

Chris chuckled. "Do you mind if I set the table? India's not the only one who's hungry."

"Not at all. But let's eat together  after India is finished ?"

"Sure."

Tom went back to concentrating on the baby in his arms, what she felt like, the little noises she made, and the way she rested her eyes on his face as she sucked, the fingers of her right hand rhythmically splaying with content and concentration. It was very obvious that her mood started to improve with the fullness of her belly. Halfway through the bottle, she started smiling cheekily at him, and two thirds through, she had enough time to "talk" to him around the nipple, sharing her observations.

"I think someone's had enough," Chris said, very amused.

"Spit cloth?" Tom asked.

Chris frowned, thinking where he could have left it.

"In her nappy bag. I'm sure Elsa packed some when she left for the airport," Tom said.

"Yes, Tom." They grinned at each other over India's head. A moment later, Chris draped said cloth meticulously over Tom's shoulder and Tom settled the baby against it for her burp. That done, Tom found a spot on the floor for the blanket and settled  the baby on top. Chris provided a toy from the nappy bag.

They finally sat down to eat.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Much later that evening, they found themselves freshly bathed and in clean jammies – India's had feet – lying in front of the fireplace and playing with  the baby . India was delighted with so much attention coming her way and didn't know where to turn first: Giggling at Daddy's antics or squirming away from Tom's tickling fingertips.

They played gently with her until she indicated that she'd had enough, her eyelids drooping considerably.

Tom got up to fix her another bottle and came back to father and daughter on the hearth rug, India lying on top  of  Chris' belly, both of them gazing adoringly at each other.

"That is so, so cute," Tom commented, presenting the bottle. "Where do you want to feed her?"

"Do you want to...?" Chris offered.

"No, I'm happy if I get to cuddle you this time," Tom said.

"Go get a book for her?" Chris asked.

They ended up piled atop the sofa anyway, Tom in the corner with the book, with Chris between his legs, leaning against his chest, and India on top of Chris, snuggled into his arm, with a good view of the picture book that Tom was holding.

Tom chuckled warmly. "I'm so going to develop cavities if we keep this up," he murmured.

Chris turned his head and batted his lashes at him.

"And you're the worst of the lot," Tom groaned, but kissed the proffered lips. "Settle in. It's time for Goldilocks and the Three Bears."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Not much later, t hey stood by the cot, watching India fall asleep. She was obviously incredibly tired but kept forcing her eyes open as if she was afraid they'd be gone  when she closed them.

Chris stood behind Tom, inhaling the scent of his hair,  keeping him close as Tom let India hold his finger for added security,  and  they waited for her to completely drift off before leaving .

"I love you," he said. His heart was so full of gratitude and grace.

Tom turned his head and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're so good with her, Tom." He slid an arm around Tom's middle and pulled him closer. "Thank you."

"She's been making it so easy today," Tom said,  his voice still full of surprise about that fact . "I don't know what happened."

Chris could see the tender expression on Tom's face as he gazed at India's sleeping form. He realized, a little disbelievingly, that now that he had stepped back and not saddled Tom and India with his own needs and expectations  of having to become an instant family , it was finally happening what he'd hoped for from the start: Tom was hopelessly falling in love with his child.  He wanted to gush about it, but he vowed to shut up for now, because the last thing he needed was for Tom to be self-conscious about it and possibly pull back again.

Instead, his left hand found its way under Tom's pajama top and he placed a  lingering kiss against his temple.

"Chris, she isn't even fully asleep," Tom chided, but he smiled.

"Hm?" Chris feigned innocence. "I think I promised to keep loving the stuffing out of you. I don't want to fall behind."

"You're not." Tom turned his head and let himself be kissed. Chris' breath quickened. He held back until India was so deeply asleep that her grip on Tom's finger lessened and Tom turned around to him, melting into his embrace. Within a few moments, Chris' blood was pounding in his ears as it rushed south ward , senses completely awash with his lover.

"Now," he urged, his voice rough. "Now, Tom."

His eyes closed at the feeling of Tom's hands sliding over his  back , and he let out a choked moan.

"Okay, time to take this to the bedroom," Tom ordered, amusement coloring his voice. "I don't want to scar India for life on her first night with us."

"Come...?" Chris tugged him towards the door.

"I'm coming, honey." Tom said. "Just one more thing."

Chris waited impatiently as he let go of his hand. 

Tom exhaled, and closed his eyes as he focused. Then he turned towards the cot again. His face completely transformed as he took in the sleeping child and he drew in a breath, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was feeling, himself. Smiling wistfully, he leaned over her. 

"Goodnight, India," he whispered into the baby's ear, and placed a gentle kiss on her brow. "Welcome home."


End file.
